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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 


COMMODORE  BYRON  MCCANDLESS 


f.fi 


Captain  ROBERT  GRAY,   entering   the   mouth   of  the  Columbia. 


Western  Series  of  Readers. — Vol.  VII 


STORIES     OF     OREGON 


BY 

EVA    EMERY    DYE,    A.M. 

Author  of  "McLoughlin  and  Old  Oregon' 


It  seems  to  rue  highly  important  that  as  much  attention  as  possible  should 
be  paid  to  the  local  history  of  Oregon  before  the  present  generation  passes 
from  the  scene.  The  history  of  the  Northwest  coast  region  seems  to  me  full 
of  fascinating  interest,  and  you  have  still  the  rare  privilege  of  being  in  touch 
with  the  early  traditions.  I  sincerely  hope  you  will  be  prospered  in  your 
attempts  to  cultivate  the  study  of  Oregon  history  and  make  it  popular. — 
John  Fiske,  to  Secretary  of  the  Oregon  Statt  Historical  Society. 


SAN  FRANCISCO 
THE  WHITAKER  AND  RAY  COMPANY 

(incorporated) 

1900 


COPYRIGHT,  1900 
BY 

Eva  Emery  Dye 


F 


PREFACE. 

There  is  not  a  boy  or  girl  in  Oregon  who  has  not  at  some 
time  been  a  rapt  listener  to  the  fireside  tale  of  "crossing  the 
plains."  Grandmother  with  her  knitting,  grandfather  spar- 
kling with  the  fires  of  youth,  spins  the  tales  of  long  ago.  The 
small  boy  stands  with  open-mouthed  wonder  at  what  those 
Indians  did  "when  grandfather  came."  The  girl  dreams  in 
the  night-time  of  those  fascinating  frolics  when  grandma 
danced  to  the  tune  of  "  Pretty  Betty  Martin  "  on  the  velvety 
plains  of  the  Platte.  Dr.  McLoughlin  looms  in  that  magic 
realm  as  a  veritable  knight  of  chivalry,  and  Fort  Vancouver 
seems  like  some  fairy  castle  beside  the  blue  Columbia.  When 
an  excursion  goes  up  to  the  Cascades,  how  the  boys  and  girls 
lean  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  where  the  flag  of  Britain  waved 
above  Vancouver's  palisades !  They  see  there  now  a  United 
States'  military  post,  with  the  Stars  and  Stripes  above  the 
barracks. 

Almost  in  the  realm  of  myth  and  fable  seems  that  far  time 
when  Governor  Abernethy  had  the  finest  house  in  the  valley, 
and  mamma  and  other  girls  of  that  day  played  "shinny"  in 
his  front  yard.  But  the  very  stumps  that  he  painted  white, 
that  he  might  find  his  way  home  on  dark  and  rainy  nights, 
have  disappeared.  The  house  itself  has  fallen  into  the  Wil- 
lamette, and  beside  the  skeleton  bricks  of  Abernethy's  old 
well  the  school  boys  and  girls  of  to-day  dig  and  dig  in  the  river 
sands  for  those  precious  bits  of  arrow-heads  that  some  ancient 
arrow-maker  chipped  in  the  long,  long  ago. 

Many  a  boy  and  girl  has  a  string  of  beads  gathered  by  old 
Indian  graves,  and  holding  them  up,  says,  "Tell  me,  mamma, 
about  those  Indians,  and  how  they  flattened  their  little  babies' 

5 


6  PREFACE. 

heads.  And  did  you  hear  them  cry  for  weeks  until  their  poor 
little  hrains  were  numbed?  And  were  they  fiatheads  ever 
after?"  And  for  the  thousandth  time  mamma  repeats  the 
story  of  that  baby-cradle,  and  of  those  moccasins,  and  of  that 
beautiful  beaded  pouch  that  some  Indian  chieftain  wore  when 
he  was  shot  in  the  war  of  '55. 

Bobbie  Birnie  watching  for  the  ships  at  old  Astoria,  Jason 
Lee  and  his  Indian  boys  and  girls,  Whitman  and  his  mission, 
Spalding  and  his  printing-press,  and  Pambrun  and  his  pretty 
children,  where  Bonneville  came  on  the  Walla  Walla,  are  better 
than  fairy  tales.  They  hear  about  Dr.  Barclay,  the  Hudson's 
Bay  physician  that  came  and  settled  in  Oregon  City  and  had  a 
riding  of  forty  miles  up  and  down  the  Willamette ;  they  hear 
how  poor  Lady  Jane  Franklin  came  through  this  way,  seeking 
for  her  husband  lost  in  the  Arctic  ;  how  grandma  baked  bread 
in  a  Dutch  oven,  and  entertained  the  son  of  England's  Premier, 
Sir  Robert  Peel,  with  a  bed  in  the  attic  loft  and  a  plate  of  venison 
steak  ;  how  the  friends  came  to  Aunt  Mary's  wedding  on  horse- 
back, through  the  mud,  with  their  party  dresses  on,  all  the  way 
from  Tualatin  and  Rickreall ;  how  those  French-Canadians 
danced  and  danced  and  danced  in  their  cabins  at  Champoeg ; 
and  how  McLoughlin  went  to  hear  the  priest  say  mass  in 
the  little  church  at  St.  Paul's.  Young  matrons  linger  at  the 
grave  of  Anna  Maria  Lee,  and  in  secret  shed  tears  over  her 
memory. 

These  stories  ought  to  be  preserved ;  you,  boys  and  girls  of 
to-day,  have  a  precious  opportunity  that  may  be  gone  to- 
morrow. In  a  few  more  years  all  the  pioneers  who  can  tell 
these  tales  of  the  olden  time  will  be  dead.  Sit  by  them  to-day 
and  write  their  stories  out.  Your  teachers  will  be  glad  to 
have  them  for  essays  in  the  schoolroom.  Historians  are  dili- 
gently gathering  up  tales  of  Couch  and  Barlow,  and  Applegate 
and  Minto,  and  all  the  data  of  those  trips  across  the  plains. 
Can  you  not  be  little  historians,  gathering  up  the  bits  of  legend 
that  together  make  the  picture  of  that  early  time?    There  may 


PREFACE.  7 

be  old  letters  in  the  trunks  of  your  attics, —  old  journals  that,  if 
not  taken  care  of,  will  some  day  get  into  the  fire. 

Some  of  you  have  aunts  and  uncles  in  Massachusetts,  Ohio, 
Missouri,  who  have  bundles  of  yellow  letters  written  here  in 
Oregon  in  the  long  ago.  How  much  they  tell !  I  have  found 
some  of  those  bundles  that  were  worth  their  weight  in  gold. 
And  your  friends  back  there  will  be  glad  to  gather  them  up 
and  send  them  out  to  you.  One  man  sent  me  a  thin  little 
journal  that  he  valued  at  fifty  dollars.  Out  of  such  material 
history  is  made.  That  is  the  work  of  the  State  Historical 
Society,  to  gather  up  and  treasure  all  these  records  of  the 
past.  The  Native  Sons  and  Daughters,  too,  preserve  all  these 
documents,  and  you  can  help  them. 

This  one  hundred  years  in  which  the  American  people  have 
been  moving  west  and  west  is  at  an  end.  There  is  no  more 
west,  but  into  the  ocean,  or  north  into  Alaska.  You,  boys  and 
girls,  belong  to  the  twentieth  century.  What  wonders  may 
you  not  see  before  you  die?  You  may  go  to  New  York  in  an 
airship  yet,  or  fly  to  Yokohama.  Do  not  let  your  speculation 
on  the  future  cloud  your  interest  in  the  past.  The  wisest 
look  both  ways.  Go  to  some  old  pioneer  in  your  neighbor- 
hood. He  leans  heavily  upon  his  cane ;  but  how  his  eye  will 
brighten  when  you  ask  him  to  tell  you  what  he  has  seen! 
Why,  he  remembers  away  back  before  the  telegraph,  when 
postboys  carried  the  swiftest  messages.  He  can  tell  you  when 
Milwaukie  rivaled  the  city  of  Portland,  and  of  the  stage-coach 
before  the  Southern  Pacific  came  through,  and  of  the  beaver 
money,  and  of  Kamiakin,  Tecumseh  of  the  Coast,  and  of  the 
Oregon  Spectator.  Copies  of  that  old  paper  are  priceless  now.  ' 
See  if  you  have  any  stowed  away  in  some  forgotten  chest.  One 
object  of  this  little  book  is  to  enable  you  more  intelligently  to 
ask  questions,  and  find  out  more  than  this  book  gives  of  all 
those  heroes  of  the  early  days  of  Oregon. 

Eva  Emery  Dye. 

Oregon  City,  Oregon,  June  15, 190O.J 


OREGON     MEMORIAL     l>\^s 

Discovert  of  the  Columbia,  Mai    II.  1792. 
Boundary  Settlement,  June  15,  1846. 
Admission  to  THE    [Jnion,  FEBRUARY  II.  1850. 


CONTENTS. 


Tin.  Wat  to  [ndia  . 

Ships  i  bom  Boa  POS 

Tin:  Btobi  "i    Lkwib   \m>  Clakk 

BTOBl    "I     JoHM    -I  M  OB    A.8TOB 

'Jill.   BrOBl    "i     M<  I- HI. is 

IImwiviii.k 

g  tOBI    "I     in  r    M  [B8ION  IBIBS 
TlIK    WOI  I     Mil  PINQB 

'I'm.  Winning is  Wbsi 

'I'm   Catxtbi    Wab    .     .     . 

(  M; '     :       CONGBE86 

I'm      |)\1  v    ,,1     (  ,..i  11 

Jo  Lank  and  thb  [ndi  v\s 

K  VMI AKIN    

\V  \K     111  IBOl  B  .        .        .        . 

'I'm  1.  Coming  01   mi:  Railboad 

I 


PAGE 

13 
23 
33 

57 

71 

s7 

91 

100 

113 

L25 

134 

152 

163 

174 

182 

I '.if, 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

( laptain  Gray  entering  the  Month  of  the  <  Solumbia  Fronlispit  ■  ■ 

Captain  Gray's  old  Sea  Chest 22 

Pillars  of  Hercnles,  on  the  Columbia                   ....  32 

CJptaill  William  Chirk 34 

Captain  Meriwether  Lew  La 35 

Mount  Hood ....  44 

Falls  of  the  Willamette 52 

Mult  in. inah  Falls 56 

Dr.  John  McLonghlin,  the  Father  of  Oregon 7u 

Fori  Vancouver ,s 

Fori  Walla  Walla 

< >1<1  Mission  1  louse .     .  92 

Jo  Meek,  the  Trapper M 

The  Old  Institute,  Salem 96 

Old  Home  of  Governor  Ibernethy HO 

Firsl  Prote8tan1  Church  Weal  of  the  Rocky  Mountain-     .  114 

Where  Chloe  Boone  Taught  School 122 

Thomas  Hart  Benton 135 

Oregon  Beaver  Coin.     In  the  Days  of  Gold     ....  155 

Table  Rock 1,is 

Sheridan's  First  Battle-Ground.    Cascades  of  the  Colum- 
bia— Memaloose  Island 178 

Col.  E.  D.  Baker 183 

Brevel  Brigadier-General  Owen  Bummers 190 

Chaplain  Will  8.  Gilbert 192 

U 


THE  WAY  TO  INDIA. 


"  Columbus,  seeking  the  back  door  of  Asia,  found  himself  knocking  at  the 
front  door  of  America." — James  Russell  Lowell. 

OUR  hundred  years  ago  all  the 
world  was  seeking  a  seaway  to 
India.  For  ages,  the  gold,  the 
silk,  the  spices, 

"The  wealth  of  Ormus  and  of  Iud," 

had   been  brought  to  Europe  on 
the  backs  of  camels,  through  the 

dusty  deserts  of  Asia.      But  now  the  Turks  had 

sent   their    battle-line    across    that   path.      Some 

other  road  must  be  found. 

Long,  long  ago,  Marco  Polo  had  crossed  Asia, 

and  brought  back  wonderful  tales  of  great  kings 

and  rich  cities  beside  a  dis- 
tant sea.    "I  will  find  that 

India,"   said    Christopher 

Columbus.     "In  my  good 

ship  will  I  sail  that  distant 

sea."    And  he  set  out.    He 

found  America,  but  he  did 

not   know    it.      Columbus 


KEFEBENCE  TOPICS. 

The  search  for  India. 

Explorers  and  routes. 

The  Pacific  discovered. 

The  River  of  the  West 
discovered,  May  11, 
179:2. 


14  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

died,  thinking  he  had  found  India;  that  close  be- 
side it  lay  Marco  Polo's  Cipango  (Japan),  and  the 
land  of  the  Great  Khan  (China). 

Balboa  followed  Columbus  to  find  the  rich  cities. 
He  stopped, — 

"  Silent,  on  a  peak  of  Darien," 

facing  a  western  sea.  Magellan  thought  he  would 
coast  around  this  barrier  shore  to  India.  He  came 
to  the  strait  bearing  his  name,  and  sailing  bravely 
through,  entered  that  same  Balboa  sea.  Coleridge 
sings  of  it  in  "The  Ancient  Mariner"  :  — 

"The  fair  breeze  blew,  the  white  foam  flew, 
The  furrow  followed  free ; 
We  were  the  first  that  ever  burst 
Into  that  silent  sea.'" 

Northward,  for  weeks  Magellan  lay  becalmed. 

"  Day  after  day,  day  after  day, 

We  stuck,  nor  breath  nor  motion  ; 
As  idle  as  a  painted  ship 
Upon  a  painted  ocean." 

On  account  of  this  great  calm,  Magellan  named 
the  sea  "  Pacific."  On,  still  westward,  seeking  the 
islands  of  spice,  Magellan  found  the  Ladrones,  and 
then  the  Philippines,  where  he  lost  his  life  in  a 
struggle  with  the  natives.  His  men  Avent  on  and 
on  to  Spain,  the  first  to  sail  around  the  earth. 


THE    WAY    TO    INDIA.  15 

Tales  brought  home  set  Spain  on  fire.  India 
meant  gold,  power.  For  this,  Spain,  and  all  the 
world  with  her,  plunged  into  unknown  perils  of 
land  and  sea  and  savage  tribes.  Their  paths  were 
marked  by  dead  men's  graves.  Cortez,  seeking  for 
India,  found  Mexico,  and  conquered  it.  Pizarro 
stumbled  upon  the  treasures  of  Peru.  Cordova 
penetrated  Nicaragua,  where  we,  to-day,  are  plan- 
ning to  build  the  great  canal. 

This  idea  of  a  canal  for  ships  is  as  old  as  the 
first  explorers,  only  they  expected  to  find  a  natu- 
ral canal  through  some  strait  or  river.  When- 
ever the  Indians  mentioned  a  great  water  farther 
on,  "Ah,  yes,  yes,"  cried  the  hopeful  old  explor- 
ers; "now  we  have  it.  That  must  be  the  way  to 
India."  And  away  they  set  out  with  renewed  ardor  ; 
for  whatever  nation  found  that  short  cut  from  sea 
to  sea  would  rule  the  commerce  of  the  world. 

With  what  rosy  dreams  De  Soto  toiled  to  the 
Mississippi,  where,  worn  out,  he  died,  and  was 
buried  beneath  its  dark  waters.  Looking  for  In- 
dia, Henry  Hudson  sailed  up  the  noble  river  Hud- 
son, and  afterward  into  Hudson's  Bay,  where  his 
mutinous  men  sent  him  adrift  in  that  waste  of 
waves. 

Cartier,  the  Frenchman,  ascended  the  St.  Law- 
rence, hoping  to  find  an  outlet  to  the  land  of  silk 


16  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

and  spice.  Farther  still,  the  brothers  Verendrye 
discovered  the  Shining  Mountains.  For  this,  Du  • 
luth,  La  Salle,  Marquette,  pierced  the  inner  wilds. 
The  old  home  of  La  Salle  in  Canada  is  called  La 
Chine  (China)  to  this  day.  John  and  Sebastian 
Cabot  directed  their  caravels  to  Labrador,  peering, 
peering  everywhere  for  a  break  to  seas  beyond. 
Cabeza  de  Vaca  and  Fray  Marcos  journeyed  far  to 
the  north  of  Mexico  in  search  of  the  Seven  Cities 
of  Cibola.  Alarcon  ascended  the  Colorado  River 
in  boats  from  the  Gulf  of  California.  Coronado 
came  up  through  Arizona. 

Romancers  told  of  a  fabulous  northwest  passage 
to  the  great  ocean  at  the  west,  and  ships  and  men 
uncounted  sought  and  sailed  in  vain.  Expedition 
after  expedition  crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  beat 
against  the  shores  of  this  new  world,  until,  in  try- 
ing to  find  India,  all  the  eastern  bays  and  inlets  of 
America  yielded  up  their  secrets. 

Persistent  rumors  of  a  mighty  river  of  the  west 
were  early  circulated  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  Many 
thought  this  river  would  solve  the  problem  of  the 
route  to  India,  connecting  somewhere  with  the 
East.  Jonathan  Carver,  a  Connecticut  Yankee, 
traveled  to  the  Dakotas.  He  said  the  River  of  the 
West  was  the  Oregon,  beyond  the  Shining  Moun- 
tains.     How  he  learned   the   name,  whether  an 


THE    WAY    TO    INDIA.  17 

Indian  told  him,  nobody  knows,  but  still  more 
eager  explorers  set  out  to  find  the  Oregon. 

In  1793  Sir  Alexander  McKenzie  and  Alexander 
McKay  crossed  from  Canada  by  land,  and  thought 
they  found  the  Oregon.  But  no;  it  proved  to  be 
the  Fraser,  in  what  is  now  British  Columbia. 
Some  tried  by  ships,  around  South  America,  up 
and  up  the  Pacific  coast,  to  touch  that  missing 
link  that  bound  the  seas  together.  Vitus  Bering, 
at  the  north,  found  the  end  of  Asia,  and  sailed  east 
and  east  to  snowy  St.  Elias.  Spain,  Portugal, 
France,  Russia,  England,  the  United  States,  —  six 
nations,  —  sent  their  vessels  along  the  sunset  coast 
to  find  that  hidden  stream,  the  River  of  the  West. 

How  they  all  missed  the  Columbia  is  a  curious 
story.  Greek  tales  say  Minerva  hid  her  favorites 
in  a  cloud  when  foes  were  near.  So,  perhaps,  the 
Columbia  was  hid  for  us.  For  two  hundred  years 
the  Spaniards  traversed  the  Pacific,  filling  their 
treasure-ships  at  the  Philippines,  and  claiming 
every  land  in  sight;  but  some  protecting  fog  or 
wind  or  rain  kept  them  off  the  Oregon  coast. 
One  of  them,  Bartolome  Ferrelo,  did  discover  the 
rocky  headlands  of  southern  Oregon  more  than 
350  years  ago.  It  was  in  March,  the  stormy  time, 
and  he  sailed  away. 

Then  Sir  Francis  Drake  came  freebooting  into 


18  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

the  Pacific  in  his  stout  little  ship,  the  Golden  Hind. 
He  chased  those  Spanish  galleons,  and  plundered 
them  of  gold  and  silver  and  silks,  until  his  ships 
could  hold  no  more.  Sailing  north,  he  sighted, 
perhaps,  southern  Oregon,  then  striking  south  and 
west  by  way  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  returned  at 
last  to  England,  the  second  circumnavigation  of 
the  earth. 

While  we  were  fighting  the  battles  of  the  Revo- 
lution, the  Spaniards  were  settling  California. 
One  of  them,  Heceta,  from  Mexico,  came  up  the 
Oregon  coast,  and  tried  to  enter  the  River  of  the 
West,  but  the  angry  currents  beat  him  back,  and 
in  the  night  drove  his  ship  far  out  to  sea.  "  I  am 
sure  there  is  a  river  there,"  said  Heceta,  and  with- 
out returning  he  marked  on  his  map,  "  Rio  de  San 
Roque."  By  and  by,  an  English  captain,  Meares, 
flying  the  Portuguese  flag,  came  along,  and  was 
almost  wrecked  in  trying  to  enter.  "  There  is  no 
River  St.  Roc  there,"  growled  Meares,  and  marked 
on  his  map,  "  Deception  Bay,"  and  "  Cape  Dis- 
appointment." 

Then  England  sent  the  famous  Captain  Cook, 
who  discovered  the  Sandwich  Islands,  and,  sail- 
ing over  toward  Oregon,  he  passed  the  Columbia's 
mouth  unseen  on  a  dark  and  stormy  night.  Alas 
for  Captain  Cook!     North  and  north  he  passed  to 


THE    WAY    TO    INDIA.  19 

the  end  of  America,  only  to  return  and  die  by  the 
wrathful  stroke  of  a  Sandwich  Islander. 

George  Vancouver  had  been  with  Captain  Cook. 
He  was  sent  to  survey  the  coast.  Skirting  all  the 
rugged  shore,  he,  too,  behind  the  amphitheater 
of  hills,  saw  no  River  of  the  West.  An  American 
nad  been  with  Captain  Cook,  —  John  Ledyard  of 
Connecticut.  When  once  again  he  reached  his 
native  land,  eagerly  in  New  York,  Philadelphia, 
Boston,  he  talked  with  merchants  of  the  fortunes 
to  be  gained  in  furs  on  that  northwest  coast. 
"Go,  send  there  your  ships,"  he  said.  "It  will  be 
the  greatest  enterprise  ever  embarked  on  in  this 
country.  It  is  of  the  very  first  moment  to  the 
trade  of  America."  Men  thought  him  visionary. 
The  British  were  chasing  Washington  down 
through  New  Jersey.  The  times  were  too  un- 
settled; the  hazard  seemed  too  great. 

The  Revolution  ended.  General  Washington 
was  President  of  the  new  United  States.  A  com- 
pany of  six  wealthy  merchants  met  one  evening, 
in  1787,  at  the  home  of  Dr.  Bulfinch  in  Boston, 
and  discussed  the  dream  of  John  Ledyard.  "Let 
us  try  a  venture  in  those  northwest  seas,"  they 
said.  Among  them,  on  the  spot,  fifty  thousand 
dollars  was  subscribed,  —  the  first  fifty  thousand 
dollars  ever  spent  for  Oregon.     Robert  Gray  and 


20  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

John  Kendrick,  two  Yankee  captains  of  the  Rev- 
olution, were  sent  out  in  the  stanch  little  ships, 
the  Columbia  Rediviva  and  the  Lady  Washington. 

The  Spanish  governor  of  California  heard  of  the 
little  ships,  and  sent  the  following  order:  — 

"  Should  there  arrive  in  the  port  of  San  Fran- 
cisco a  ship  named  Columbia,  which,  they  say,  be- 
longs to  General  Washington  of  the  American 
states,  and  which,  under  the  command  of  John 
Kendrick,  sailed  from  Boston  in  September,  1787, 
with  the  design  of  making  discoveries  and  inspect- 
ing the  establishments  which  the  Russians  have 
on  the  northern  coasts  of  this  peninsula,  you  will 
take  measures  to  secure  this  vessel  and  all  the  peo- 
ple on  board,  with  discretion,  tact,  cleverness,  and 
caution,  doing  the  same  with  a  small  craft  which 
she  has  with  her  as  a  tender,  and  with  every  other 
suspicious  foreign  vessel,  giving  me  prompt  notice, 
in  order  that  I  may  take  such  action  as  shall  be 
expedient." 

All  unconscious  of  danger,  Gray  and  Kendrick 
beat  around  the  Horn  in  their  brave  little  ships, 
and  passed  unharmed  the  hostile  coast  of  Califor- 
nia. Captain  Gray  met  Vancouver  up  near  the 
Strait  of  Fuca,  and  told  him,  "I  have  been  off 
the  mouth  of  a  river  in  latitude  46  degrees  10 
minutes  north,  where  the  outflow  is  so  strong  it 
prevented  my  entering  for  nine  days." 


THE    WAY    TO    INDIA.  21 

Vancouver  laughed.  "You  are  mistaken,  Mr. 
Gray.  I  have  investigated  that  matter  further 
than  anybody  else  in  the  civilized  world.  The 
whole  coast  presents  one  solid,  compact,  nearly 
straight  barrier  against  the  sea.  There  is  no  river 
there."  Vancouver  passed  on  into  the  Strait  of 
Fuca,  where  Kendrick  had  already  been  with  his 
little  Lady  Washington.  The  Englishman  named 
the  sunlit  sound  for  his  trusted  officer,  Lieutenant 
Peter  Puget,  and  the  snowy  peak  beyond  for  the 
English  admiral,  Rainier. 

Captain  Gray  went  back.  In  a  few  days,  May 
11,  1792,  the  plucky  captain  sailed  over  the  shin- 
ing bar  into  the  broad,  blue  bosom  of  the  mighty 
River  of  the  West.  He  named  it  for  his  own  good 
ship,  "Columbia's  River."  1492-1792,  — it  had 
taken  three  hundred  years!  With  the  finding  of 
the  Oregon,  America  was  all  discovered.  It  was  the 
last  point,  the  end  of  all  this  wide  world-movement 
to  the  West. 

For  twenty-five  miles  Gray  explored  the  mag- 
nificent shores,  grander  than  the  Palisades  of  the 
Hudson.  Nine  days  he  remained  in  the  river. 
The  friendly  Chinooks  came  out  in  boats  to  trade. 
When  he  left,  the  loyal  Yankee  named  the  jutting 
headlands  at  the  mouth  for  Hancock  and  Adams, 
his  famous  fellow-heroes  of  the  Revolution. 


22 


WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 


When  you  are  in  Portland,  it  will  be  worth  your 
while  to  visit  the  State  Historical  Rooms,  and  ask 
to  see  Captain  Gray's  old  sea-chest,  and  other  rel- 
ics of  that  voyage,  that  were  sent  out  by  his  family 
from  Boston  for  the  great  celebration  in  1892, — 
exactly  one  hundred  years  from  that  bright  May 
morning  when  Captain  Gray  discovered  the  Co- 
lumbia River. 

BLACKBOARD    STUDIES. 

galleons  (gal'le-uns),  circumnavigation  (ser-kiim-nav-i-ga'- 
shun),  Alarcon  (a-lar-kon')- 

The  Strait  of  Juan  de  Fuca  was  named  for  Juan  de  Fuca, 
a  Greek  navigator,  who  pretended  that  he  had  discovered  a 
northwest  passage  leading  through  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 


^H£$T  \19& 


*$HIP>  COLUMBIANS 
PRESEWTEPTO'P/;G«F;£fra  HISTORICAL  } 


SOCiejY  OF  OREGO^SY  THE  HEIRS  OF 

tfAPT.  ROBERT    CRAY.  MAYII"I«S2. 


'atfe^P"" 


CAPTAIN   GRAY    S    OLD    SEA    CHEST. 


SHIPS   FROM   BOSTON. 


MERICAN  commerce  began  with 
separation  from  the  mother  coun- 
try. The  moment  the  colonies 
were  free,  every  skipper  longed 
to  skim  the  main  :  no  land  travel 
of  those  days  could  equal  the  airy 
dancing  of  a  ship  at  sea.  The 
Napoleonic  wars  began;  blockaded  Europe  wanted 
provisions,  that  only  could  come  from  American 
shores,  in  American  ships.  Commerce  blossomed. 
Unmolested  we  swarmed  over  seas,  and  down  to 
Cuba  and  South  America,  and  around  Cape  Horn. 
Gray  and  Kendrick  first  came  into  the  Pacific  in 
1787.  Kendrick  remained 
in  the  Lady  Washington  at 
Vancouver's  Island,  while 
Captain  Gray,  in  the  Co- 
lumbia, sailed  with  a  cargo 
of  furs  to  China.  In  ex- 
change he  took  on  tea!  tea! 
over  which  we  had  fought 
our  Revolution.  No  wonder 

23 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 

American  commerce  be- 
gins. 

Pacific  exploration. 

Gray    carries    the     flag 
around  the  world. 

American  settlement  at 
Hawaii. 

The  first  printing-press. 


24  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

there  was  cheering  when  Gray  reached  Boston  in 
the  summer  of  1790,  flying  the  Stars  and  Stripes, 
the  first  to  carry  that  flog  around  the  world!  No 
wonder  the  cannon  boomed,  and  crowds  flocked 
to  the  wharves  to  see  what  ship  was  receiving  such 
royal  honor.  Boston  gave  a  great  reception,  very 
like  a  second  Tea  Party,  and  medals  were  struck 
in  bronze  and  silver. 

In  six  weeks  Gray  was  ready  to  start  again  to 
the  Pacific.  Others  took  courage  and  followed,  so 
that  in  1792,  when  Gray  discovered  the  Columbia 
River,  there  were  already  twenty-one  American 
ships  on  the  northwest  coast.  "Where  are  you 
from?"  asked  the  Chinook  chief  of  Gray.  "  From 
Boston,"  and  all  the  rest  said  "Boston,"  until  the 
Indians  thought  all  the  land  was  Boston,  and  all 
the  people  "Bostons," — a  magic  word  in  the  new 
Chinook  trade  tongue. 

As  the  Phoenicians  of  old  ventured  out  of  the 
Mediterranean  even  as  far  as  the  tin  mines  of 
Cornwall,  on  the  coast  of  Britain,  so  the  little 
Yankee  brigs  crept  down  and  down  the  coast, 
and  around  the  Horn,  until  every  village  had  its 
skippers  in  the  far  Pacific.  Some  went  for  furs, 
and  some  for  whales,  and  all  for  bold  adventure. 
Never  again  will  this  land  see  more  hardy  sailors 
than  the  tars  that  traveled  the  seas  at  the  close  of 
our  Revolution. 


SHIPS    FROM    BOSTON.  25 

This  maritime  commerce  built  New  England  into 
wealth.  It  gave  an  outlet  to  every  product,  and 
filled  her  homes  with  comfort.  If  all  had  kept  rec- 
ord of  the  shores  explored,  there  need  never  have 
been  any  controversy  as  to  our  title.  Not  only 
Oregon,  but  all  the  north,  was  ours.  McKenzie, 
in  his  famous  overland  trip  from  Canada,  reached 
the  coast  in  1793.  Our  skippers  had  already  been 
all  along  those  shores. 

Our  American  traders  dove  into  every  cove  and 
inlet.  If  furs  were  found,  the  locality  was  kept 
secret  for  future  exploitation.  Venturesome  as 
the  vikings  in  their  crazy  craft,  they  left  as  little 
record  of  their  findings.  Long  before  Sitka  was 
founded,  Yankee  ships  were  buying  furs  along  the 
Alaskan  coast.  The  very  day,  May  25,  1799,  that 
Baranoff  laid  the  foundation  of  his  fort  in  Sitka 
Sound,  the  Boston  brig  Caroline  was  buying  hun- 
dreds of  skins,  at  two  yards  of  broadcloth 'each, 
in  that  same  harbor.  Several  other  Boston  brigs 
looked  in  upon  him  during  the  summer.  Some- 
times twenty  appeared  in  a  season. 

Kendrick  bought  of  the  Indians  large  tracts  of 
Vancouver  Island  before  Vancouver  ever  reached 
there.  In  1792,  when  Vancouver  heard  of  Gray's 
discovery  of  the  Columbia  River,  he  came  back  to 
take  another  look.    There  he  f^"T,d  the  brig  Jenny, 


26  WESTERN    SERIES    OF   READERS. 

Captain  Baker,  of  Rhode  Island,  already  anchored 
within  the  bay.  So  Americans  may  be  said  to 
have  twice  discovered  the  Columbia.  Vancou- 
ver's lieutenant,  hurrying  up  the  river,  caught 
sight  of  two  mountains.  He  named  them  for 
Lord  Hood  and  Lord  St.  Helens,  and  claimed  the 
whole  for  His  Majesty  King  George. 

Those  daring  little  Boston  brigs  of  a  hundred 
years  ago  were  of  150  to  250  tons  burden.  They 
generally  had  a  small  cannon  or  two  on  board, 
and  a  blunderbuss  on  the  taffrail,  to  fight  or  trade, 
as  need  be.  Sometimes  these  brigs  were  owned 
by  their  captains,  sometimes  by  wealthy  mer- 
chants, who  sent  them  out  as  men  to-day  grub- 
stake miners  for  the  Klondike. 

These  trading-ships  started  out  with  assorted 
cargoes  of  Yankee  notions.  At  the  West  Indies, 
rum,  tobacco,  and  molasses  were  taken  on.  Around 
the  Horn  they  sped,  stopping  long  enough  at  Val- 
paraiso to  exchange  Yankee  goods  for  Spanish 
silver.  Here  and  there  the  thrifty  captains  picked 
up  sealskins  and  oil  in  the  South  Pacific. 

On  the  Farallones,  and  on  the  coast  of  Oregon, 
furs  began  to  be  gathered  in.  Winter  was  spent 
at  the  Sandwich  Islands,  cleaning  and  drying  the 
furs.  Leaving  some  one  there  to  look  after  them, 
with  the  return  of  spring  the  ships  went  back  to 


SHIPS    FROM    BOSTON.  27 

Oregon,  and  summered  in  the  north.  Finally, 
over  they  went  to  China,  to  exchange  their  furs 
for  teas,  silks,  and  nankeens  to  carry  home  to 
Boston. 

Very  well  known  were  the  Sandwich  Islands  to 
our  Yankee  skippers  one  hundred  years  ago.  In 
1819,  seven  missionaries  and  their  wives  sailed  out 
from  Boston,  with  a  printing-press,  in  the  little 
brig  Thaddeus,  that  "Mayflower  of  the  Pacific." 

"  That  God-forsaken  land  is  no  place  for  women," 
said  the  owner  of  the  trading-ship.  He  put  on 
board  a  knock-down  house,  to  be  set  up  for  them 
at  Honolulu.  "  And  if  any  of  them  want  to  come 
back,  give  them  free  passage,"  was  his  parting 
word. 

When  they  touched  the  Islands,  the  women 
turned  away  and  wept  at  sight  of  the  degraded 
natives.  But  the  noble  women  stayed,  homes 
were  built  and  schools  were  opened,  and  Hawaii 
was  Americanized  before  any  other  Pacific  point. 
No  wonder  the  Islands  belong  to  us;  the  advance 
guard  of  the  American  college  brought  them  in. 

In  1839,  twenty  years  later,  that  historic  old  print- 
ing-press came  over  to  Oregon  to  aid  in  the  infant 
settlements,  —  the  first  press  west  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  It  reads  like  a  romance,  the  close  ties 
that  long  ago  linked  Oregon  and  "The  Islands." 


28  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

Sometimes  a  blacksmith  went  on  these  Yankee 
ships,  with  a  forge  on  board  to  make  whatever 
the  Indians  wanted.  Nails  were  in  great  demand. 
Once  a  Spanish  crew  was  murdered,  apparently 
for  no  other  purpose  than  to  get  the  nails  used  in 
the  construction  of  their  boat. 

At  first  the  Indians  had  very  little  idea  of  what 
furs  were  worth.  When  Gray  was  at  Tillamook, 
the  Indians  handed  over  their  skins,  and  took 
without  a  murmur  whatever  he  chose  to  give.  So 
at  Queen  Charlotte's  Island,  one  of  his  men  got 
two  hundred  of  the  finest  skins  for  an  old  file. 

The  Indians  were  particularly  delighted  with 
brass  pans,  pewter  basins,  and  tin  tea-kettles. 
Sometimes  beads  and  sometimes  glass  were  in 
great  demand.  As  the  Indians  became  more  ac- 
customed to  trade,  they  asked  more  for  their  furs. 

Sometimes  nothing  but  muskets  and  ammuni- 
tion would  satisfy  an  Indian  encampment.  In 
such  a  case  the  unlucky  trader  might  offer  any- 
thing else  in  vain.  Not  a  skin  could  he  get,  and 
away  he  must  sail,  leaving  a  harvest  for  the  lucky 
man  who  had  the  muskets.  The  Spaniards  found 
the  Indians  would  give  anything  they  had  for 
shells  from  the  beach  at  Monterey.  This  became 
their  shell  money,  —  haiqua. 

For  a  time,  seldom  an  Encrlish  flag  was  seen  in 


SHIPS    FROM    BOSTON.  29 

these  waters;  rarely  a  Spaniard,  —  Europe  clus- 
tered around  the  theater  of  Napoleonic  wars.  In 
1801,  upwards  of  eighteen  thousand  sea-otter  skins 
were  collected  by  Americans  alone,  and  fifteen 
thousand  in  1802.  Sturgis  of  Boston  once  col- 
lected six  thousand  in  a  single  voyage,  and  once 
five  hundred  and  sixty  of  the  best  quality  in  half 
a  day.  Captain  Gray  alone  got  three  thousand  in 
that  second  voyage. 

Those  early  navigators,  so  close  to  Revolution- 
ary times,  wore  their  hair  in  queues.  One  ship, 
owned  by  the  Amorys  of  Boston,  was  captured  by 
the  Indians  of  Vancouver's  Island.  John  Jewett 
says:  "  I  was  caught  by  the  hair  by  one  of  the  sav- 
ages, and  lifted  from  my  feet.  Fortunately  for  me, 
my  hair  being  short,  and  the  ribbon  with  which 
it  was  tied  slipping,  I  fell  from  his  hold  into  the 
steerage." 

Jewett  and  another  man,  a  sailmaker,  were  kept 
to  make  and  mend  guns  and  sails  for  the  chief. 
All  the  rest  were  killed,  and  the  brig  was  accident- 
ally burnt.  Jewett  and  his  companion  saw  the 
Boston  brigs  go  by,  saw  the  Juno  and  the  Mary, 
but  not  until  the  third  year,  1806,  were  they  res- 
cued by  the  Boston  brig  Lydia,  sent  to  their  relief, 
and  that  was  the  year  Lewis  and  Clark  were  on 
the  Columbia. 


30  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Some  Yankee  captains  made  terms  with  Baran- 
off  at  Sitka,  by  which  they  took  his  Aleuts,  with 
their  bidarkas,  and  hunted  fur-seal  and  sea-otter 
on  shares,  bringing  away  tens  of  thousands  of 
most  precious  skins. 

A  regular  business  sprang  up,  of  supplying  Sitka 
with  Boston  goods.  Once,  indeed,  they  saved  the 
Russians'  lives.  The  winter  of  1805  was  long. 
No  Russian  ship  appeared.  Provisions  we're  gone, 
starvation  threatened,  when,  to  their  joy,  a  Yankee 
ship  swung  round  the  point  of  Sitka  Island.  She 
had  on  board  meat,  sugar,  tea,  and  flour  and  rice. 

Of  course  Baranoff  bought  everything  the  cap- 
tain had.  He  even  bought  his  brig,  that  they 
might  have  means  of  cruising  to  more  favored 
shores  for  food.  This  brig,  the  Juno,  was  sent  to 
the  Columbia  River,  with  a  view  of  planting  a 
Russian  colony  there,  to  raise  supplies  for  Sitka. 
Three  days  the  Russians  tried  to  cross  the  Colum- 
bia bar,  that  guarded  Oregon.  Three  days  they 
tried,  and  gave  it  up,  and  made  their  settlement 
in  California.  How  many  times  has  Oregon  been 
saved ! 

The  Bostonians  bought  skins,  not  only  of  the 
northern  tribes,  but  also  of  the  padres  in  Cali- 
fornia. In  former  times,  the  Spanish  padres  had 
depended  on  the  Manila  galleons' to  take  their  furs 


SHIPS    FROM    BOSTON.  31 

to  China  by  way  of  the  Philippines;  but  now  they 
began  to  carry  on  a  secret  and  profitable  trade 
with  the  Bostons,  —  a  trade  that  grew  and  grew 
until  California  became  our  own. 

This  Boston  trade  flourished  along  the  Pacific 
coast  until  the  War  of  1812,  when  our  ships  were 
driven  from  this  shore.  No  wonder  Boston  exe- 
crated the  War  of  1812:  it  cut  her  to  the  heart. 
Her  northwest  commerce  never  recovered,  though 
later  a  livelier  trade  sprang  up  on  the  coast  of 
California. 


BLACKBOARD    STUDIES. 

blunderbuss.  A  short  gun  with  a  large  bore,  capable  of  hold- 
ing a  number  of  balls,  intended  to  do  execution  without 
exact  aim. 

taffrail,      The  rail  around  a  ship's  stern. 

bidarkas.     Skin  boats  of  the  Alaskan  Indians. 

See  Bancroft's  "  Northwest  Coast." 


PILLARS   OF   HERCULES,    ON    THE   COLUMBIA. 


THE   STORY  OF  LEWIS  AND   CLARK. 


HOMAS  JEFFERSON  may  be 
called  our  first  great  expansion- 
ist. His  far-seeing  eye  looked 
beyond  the  old  Atlantic  line  of 
colonies,  to  a  domain  from  sea  to 
sea.  His  was  the  famous  Loui- 
siana Purchase  in  1803,  that  at 
one  stroke  joined  an  empire  to  our  inland  border. 
Even  before  the  flag  of  France  came  down,  and  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  went  up,  Jefferson  had  an  expedi- 
tion under  way  to  explore  "the  Oregon  country." 
Jefferson  was  Minister  to  France  in  Washing- 
ton's day.  A  frequent  guest  at  his  table  in  Paris 
was  John  Ledyard,  the  American  who  had  been 
with  Captain  Cook  on  his 
northwest  voyage.  All  un- 
conscious that  his  words 
were  soon  to  bear  rich 
fruit  in  Boston,  Ledyard 
had  gone  to  France.  Here 
Jefferson  met  him  and  be- 
came his  friend. 

33 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 

Ledyard  arouses  Jeffer- 
son. 

Napoleon  sells  Louisi- 
ana. 

Jefferson  sends  expedi- 
tion to  find  water-way 
from  the  Missouri  to 
the  Pacific. 


34 


WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 


"  Why,  Mr.  Jefferson,"  he  was  wont  to  say,  "  that 
northwest  land  belongs  to  us.  I  felt  I  breathed 
the  air  of  home  the  day  we  touched  at  Nootka 
Sound.  The  very  Indians  are  just  like  ours.  I 
felt  I  knew  them.     And  furs, — that  coast  is  rich 

in  beaver,  bear, 
and  otter .  For  old, 
cast-off  clothes  we 
bought  a  few  otter- 
skins.  Six  of  the 
finest  skins  were 
purchased  for  a 
dozen  green-glass 
beads!  Bless  me! 
when  we  got  to 
China,  if  the  man- 
darins didn't  come 
down  and  pay  us 
ten  thousand  dol- 
lars for  that  acci- 
dental stock  of 
furs  !  And  most 
of  them  had  been  used  in  the  bunks  all  winter 
for  bedclothes,  too.  We  never  thought  oi  selling 
them.  Skins  that  did  not  cost  a  sixpences  old  for 
one  hundred  dollars.  No  wonder  the  men  were 
wild  to  give  up  exploring,  and  turn  traders.     But 


CAPTAIN  WILLIAM   CLARK. 

From  Coue's  History  of  Lewis  and  Clark's 

Expedition  (1893). 

By  permission  of  Francis  P.  Harper. 


THE    STORY    OF    LEWIS    AND    CLARK. 


35 


they  would  not  let  us.  Depend  upon  it,  Mr.  Jef- 
ferson, untold  fortunes  lie  untouched  at  the  back 
of  the  United  States.  The  American  Revolution 
invites  to  a  thorough  discovery  of  the  continent. 
Who  but  us  should  have  the  honor?" 

Jefferson  re- 
turned to  Amer- 
ica, filled  with 
visions  of  that  un- 
known west.  As 
soon  as  he  became 
President,  Jeffer- 
son secured  from 
Congress  an  ap- 
propriation to 
send  an  expedi- 
tion to  the  Pa- 
cific. Who  could 
say — the  Missouri 
and  the  Columbia 
might  meet  in 
those  far-off  wilds. 
It  was  part  of  the  old  dream,  a  waterway  to  India. 

To  the  chief  command  Jefferson  appointed  his 
private  secretary,  Meriwether  Lewis,  nephew  of 
that  Lewis  that  married  George  Washington's  sis- 
ter.    Lewis  himself  chose  for  his  companion  Cap- 


CAPTAIN    MERIWETHER   LEWIS. 

From  Cone's  History  of  Lewis  and  Clark's 

Expedition  (1893). 

By  permission  of  Francis  P.  Harper. 


36  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

tain  William  Clark,  brother  of  the  famous  George 
Rogers  Clark,  that  won  Indiana  and  Illinois  for 
us  in  the  days  of  the  Revolution.  By  happy  for- 
tune, now  another  of  the  family  was  to  push  that 
empire  on  to  the  Pacific. 

Lewis  and  Clark  were  young,  both  were  brave, 
both  had  been  with  "Mad  Anthony  Wayne"  in 
his  victories  over  the  Ohio  Indians.  Now  their 
names  were  to  be  linked  with  our  northwest  land 
forever. 

When  Lewis  and  Clark  started,  Ohio  was  the 
most  western  state.  All  was  wilderness  beyond. 
There  were  only  six  million  people  in  the  country 
then.  And  yet  that  six  million  of  trapping  and 
hunting  and  farming  Americans  required  a  vast 
amount  of  room.  They  were  crossing  over  the 
Mississippi;,  and  into  the  Spanish  country,  even 
before  Jefferson  made  the  Louisiana  Purchase. 
He  was  almost  obliged  to  make  it,  our  people  were 
so  determined  to  control  that  great  river.  The 
idea  of  being  bottled  up  by  a  foreign  settlement 
down  there  at  New  Orleans  was  intolerable.  So, 
when  Napoleon  Bonaparte  got  hold  of  New  Or- 
leans, and  needed  money  to  carry  on  his  wars,  he 
was  more  than  glad  to  sell  the  whole  country  to 
us,  —  enough  to  make  three  or  four  countries  the 
size  of  France.     When  Lewis  and  Clark  reached 


THE    STORY    OF    LEWIS    AND    CLARK.  37 

the  Mississippi,  the  old  French-Spanish  town  of 
St.  Louis  had  only  just  been  surrendered  to  the 
United  States  government. 

In  May,  1804,  Lewis  and  Clark  left  St.  Louis 
with  soldiers,  guides,  and  supplies.  The  frontier 
town  turned  out  to  see  them  start.  Hats  and  ker- 
chiefs waved,  salutes  were  fired.  Their  long,  light, 
narrow  boats  shot  up  the  river,  and  disappeared  in 
that  primeval  west  known  only  to  an  occasional 
trapper  and  to  Indian  tradition. 

The  whole  country  watched  the  expedition  with 
keenest  interest.  Not  Livingstone  in  darkest  Af- 
rica, nor  Franklin  at  the  pole,  was  followed  by 
warmer  heart-throbs.  Their  safety  was  prayed 
for,  their  silence  mourned  over.  National  hon- 
ors waited  to  be  showered  upon  the  returning 
heroes. 

Working  their  way  up  the  Missouri,  Lewis  and 
Clark  passed  the  future  site  of  Omaha,  and  on, 
on,  up  into  the  land  where  Hiawatha  found  his 
Minnehaha.  The  winter  of  1804-05  was  spent 
among  the  Mandan  Indians.  In  the  flare  of  the 
winter  camp-fires  did  they  see  the  future  Bismarck, 
with  her  solid  blocks,  her  million-dollar  bridge, 
and  her  wheat-fields  there  to-day? 

April  saw  them  gliding  westward,  taking  with 
them  Chaboneau,  a  French  interpreter,  and  his 


38  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Indian  wife,  Saca-jawea,  the  wonderful  "  Bird- 
woman,"  who,  with  her  baby,  crossed  the  conti- 
nent and  back  again  Game  was  everywhere. 
Bands  of  antelope  swam  the  Missouri ;  swarms 
of  deer  and  elk,  tame  and  confiding,  scarcely 
ran  at  their  approach.  Buffalo,  buffalo,  every- 
where, were  feeding  on  the  plains,  —  sometimes 
mild  as  herds  of  cattle,  sometimes  bellowing  over 
fords,  a  seething,  struggling,  black  mass  in  the 
waters. 
•April  26th,  they  reached  the  Yellow-rock  River, 
now  the  Yellowstone.  In 
May  they  camped  upon 
a  river  where  big-horned 
sheep  were  numerous. 
Chirk  named  it  the  Judith.1 
May  26th,  Lewis  caught 
sight  of  mountains, — Shin- 
ing Mountains,  Snowy 
Mountains,  Stony  Moun- 
tains, men  had  called  those  vague  and  far-off 
heights.  Lewis  fixed  the  name  forever,  —  Rocky 
Mountains. 

In  June,  Lewis,  who  had  gone  ahead,  discovered 

the  Great  Falls  of  the  Missouri.     The  roaring  of 

the  cataract   he  heard  seven  miles  away,  carried 

by  the  southwest  wind.     Like  Hiawatha,  he  had  — 

1  In  honor  of  his  future  wife 


It  had  not  been  certain  that 
those  mountains  were  in  the 
United  States.  Sixty-two  years 
before,  two  sons  of  the  French 
Chevalier Verendrye had  sighted 
a  range  and  called  it  the  Stonies, 
—  and  the  Stonies  had  been 
marked  on  some  maps  of  Brit- 
ish America.  The  Verendryes 
turned  bark  on  account  of  fierce 
battles  between  the  Snakes  and 
the  Sioux(174:s). 


THE    STORY    OF    LEWIS    AND    CLARK.  39 

"Journeyed  westward,  westward, 
Left  the  fleetest  deer  behind  him, 
Left  the  antelope  and  bison, 
Passed  the  mountains  of  the  Prairie, 
Passed  the  land  of  Crows  and  Foxes, 
Passed  the  dwellings  of  the  Blackfeet, 
Came  unto  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
To  the  kingdom  of  the  West- Wind." 

These  falls  seemed  to  be  a  rendezvous  for  all 
the  wild  animals  in  the  country.  Thousands  of 
impatient  buffaloes  pushed  each  other  along  the 
steep,  rocky  paths  to  the  water;  dozens  went  over 
the  cataract  to  feed  the  bears  and  wolves  below. 
Here  Lewis  and  Clark  discovered  the  ferocious 
grizzly  bear,  the  king  of  western  beasts.  Unlike 
their  smaller  eastern  brethren,  these  great  Mon- 
tana bears  attacked  men  unprovoked.  It  was  not 
safe  for  one  man  to  go  out  alone  to  any  distance. 
They  growled  around  the  camp  at  night,  and 
chased  them  in  the  day.  Once  a  huge  grizzly 
chased  Captain  Lewis  into  the  river. 

On  July  4th  they  heard  strange  booming,  like 
cannonading,  in  the  mountains.  The  French  voy- 
ageurs  said  it  was  caused  by  the  bursting  of  rich 
veins  of  silver.  Undoubtedly  this  is  the  first  re- 
corded booming  of  Montana  silver  mines.  Cut- 
ting down  a  big  round  cottonwood,  they  sawed  it 
into  wheels  and  rolled  their  boats  around  the  falls. 


40  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Again  launched,  on  July  15th  they  passed  through 
the  Gates  of  the  Mountains,  to  a  country  where 
Saca-jawea  said  the  river  had  three  forks.  Sure 
enough,  in  a  short  time  they  proudly  named  the 
Jefferson,  Madison,  and  Gallatin  forks  of  the  Mis- 
souri. 

In  August  they  camped  beside  two  little  rills, — 
one  found  its  way  to  the  Mississippi  and  the  Gulf; 
the  other  fed  the  River  of  the  West,  Columbia. 
One  of  the  men  straddled  the  headwaters  of  the 
Missouri  and  thanked  God  that  at  last  they  had 
come  to  the  end  of  this  "  endless  river,"  three 
thousand  miles  from  St.  Louis.  For  the  first 
time  white  men  stood  upon  the  Great  Divide  of 
North  America. 

The  water  route  was  ended.  The  boats  were 
hidden  in  the  rocks.  Horses  must  now  be  had  to 
carry  them  over  the  heights  beyond.  Saca-jawea 
said,  "This  was  a  camping-spot.  Yonder  is  the 
battle-field  where  I  was  captured.  Below  is  the 
summer  resort  of  my  people,  the  Shoshones." 
Eagerly  they  looked  for  Saca-jawea's  people.  Of 
them  the  route  must  be  learned  and  horses  pur- 
chased. A  Shoshone  horseman  came  in  sight. 
Paralyzed,  he  looked  upon  the  white  men  —  then 
fled  like  a  frightened  deer.  No  calls  could  bring 
him  back. 


THE    STORY    OF    LEWIS    AND    CLARK.  41 

Following  a  well-worn  trail,  Captain  Lewis  came 
upon  two  women.  They  could  not  escape.  He 
loaded  them  with  gifts.  Reluctantly  they  led  the 
way  to  sixty  mounted  warriors.  A  woman  looked 
upon  Saca-jawea — they  flew  into  each  other's 
arms.  They  had  been  girls  together,  had  been 
captured  in  the  same  battle,  had  shared  the  same 
captivity.  One  had  escaped  to  her  own  people; 
the  other  had  been  sold  as  a  slave  in  the  land  of 
the  Dakotahs. 

Captain  Lewis  appointed  a  council;  summoned 
Saca-jawea  to  interpret.  With  tears  of  joy  she  be- 
*gan,  when,  lifting  her  eyes  to  the  chief,  she  recog- 
nized her  own  brother,  Cameahwait.  She  ran  to 
his  side,  threw  her  blanket  over  his  head,  wept 
upon  his  bosom.  Of  course,  after  that  everything 
was  done  that  Shoshones  could  do.  Horses  were 
brought,  food  —  roasted  salmon.  Then  Lewis 
knew  he  was  on  waters  flowing  to  the  Pacific.  He 
named  the  stream  from  which  the  fish  were  taken 
Salmon  River. 

With  Shoshone  guides  they  started  across  the 
mountains.  Snow  set  in;  men  and  horses  fell 
from  exhaustion.  No  game  was  there;  they  lived 
on  dogs  and  horses.  In  this  trip,  across  the 
Idaho  of  to-day,  two  great  forks  of  the  Columbia 
were  named,  —  the    north    W  Clark,  who  saw  it 


42  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

first,  and  the  south  for  Lewis,  who  first  approached 
its  rocky  shores. 

In  late  September,  worn  out  with  hardships, 
cold,  and  hunger,  they  reached  the  land  of  the 
Nez  Perces,  upon  the  Clearwater  River.  The  Nez 
Perces  brought  them  food.  Indian  tradition  tells 
us  that  they  thought  the  cold  made  the  strangers' 
faces  white,  so  they  built  big  fires  and  wrapped 
their  guests  in  buffalo-robes.  When,  streaming 
with  perspiration,  the  men  put  off  the  robes,  the 
solicitous  Indians  ran  and  placed  them  back  again. 

Then  Captain  Clark  arose  and  told  them  of  the 
Great  Father  at  Washington,  who  had  sent  them 
to  visit  his  children,  and  presented  them  with 
medals  prepared  for  this  purpose.  The  words  of 
that  council  were  handed  down  for  generations. 
Flags  presented  were  seen  by  Americans  fifty 
years  later.  Medals  are  occasionally  dug  up  to 
this  day.  Here  Lewis  and  Clark  built  canoes, 
and,  leaving  their  horses  in  care  of  the  hospitable 
Nez  Perces,  embarked  for  the  downward  trip  to 
the  sea. 

Day  by  day  they  passed  by  wild,  romantic  scenes 
where  white  man's  foot  had  never  trod.  Word 
flew  ahead.  When  they  reached  the  Columbia,  two 
hundred  Indians  advanced  in  procession  to  greet 
them  with  drums  and  singing.     The  next  day  they 


THE    STORY    OF    LEWIS    AND    CLARK.  43 

encountered  eighteen  canoes,  where  there  were 
"inconceivable  multitudes  of  salmon."  Indians 
everywhere  were  drying  fish. 

In  the  "  high  countrey  "  of  the  Walla  Walla  they 
caught  sight  of  a  mountain,  "of  conocal  form, 
covered  with  snow,"  which,  of  course,  was  Mount 
Hood.  Later,  Clark  climbed  a  cliff  two  hundred 
feet  above  the  water,  and  saw  what  he  supposed  to 
be  St.  Helens,  named  by 
Vancouver.  Every  step 
was  like  a  story-book,  full 
of  new,  strange  pictures. 
Yellept,  chief  of  the  Walla 
Wallas,  invited  them  to 
visit  his  people ;  others 
stood  like  shadows  and 
statues  in  bronze,  watch- 
ing from  afar. 

October  22d,  they  shot 
their   boats    through    the 


Once  Captain  Clark  shot  a 
white  crane  and  a  thick.  Indi- 
ans beard  the  report  and  saw 
the  birds  fall,  and  at  that 
moment  caught  sight  of  the 
white  men.  "  From  the  clouds! 
from  the  clouds!"  was  the  ter- 
rified cry.  Clark  followed  the 
fleeing  Indians,  lifted  the  mats 
that  shut  their  doors,  and  there, 
as  if  expecting  instant  death, 
men,  women,  children,  hung 
their  heads  and  wept.  Clark 
approached,  took  their  hands, 
spoke.  Half -calmed,  they  look- 
ed, but  all  their  terrors  leaped 
anew  when  he  lit  his  pipe  with 
a  sunglass. 


boiling  caldron  of  the  Dalles,  to  the  great  aston- 
ishment of  the  Indians  watching  from  above.  On 
they  came,  through  mighty  mountains,  past  an- 
cient burial-places  of  the  savage  dead,  to  the  wild- 
rushing  Cascades.  Past  these  cascades,  five  miles 
of  continuous  rapids,  white  with  sheets  of  foam, 
they  made  a  portage.     On  either  side,  the  rocky 


THE    STORY    OF    LEWIS    AND    CLARK.  45 

palisades,  "green-mossed  and  dripping,"  reached 
the  skies.  Tiny  waterfalls,  leaping  from  the  clouds, 
fell  in  rainbow  mist  a  thousand  feet  below. 

"  Mount  Hood  stood  white  and  vast. " 

Below  the  Cascades,  vast  numbers  of  sea-otters 
slept  on  the  rocks.  Swarms  of  swans,  geese,  ducks, 
cranes,  storks,  white  gulls,  cormorants,  plover, 
swept  screaming  by.  The  hills  were  green,  the 
soft  west  wind     as  warm  with  rain. 

"  What  a  wild  delight 
Of  space  !  of  room  !     What  a  sense  of  seas  !  " 

They  had  come  into  a  new  world,  —  the  valley 
of  the  lower  Columbia,  the  home  of  the  Chinook 
wind. 

Traces  of  white  men  began  to  appear,  —  blue  and 
scarlet  blankets,  brass  tea-kettles,  and  beads.  One 
Indian,  with  a  round  hat  and  a  sailor-jacket,  wore 
his  hair  in  a  queue,  in  imitation  of  the  "  Bostons." 
The  Virginians  seemed  utterly  unaware  of  the 
great  Boston  trade,  now  at  its  height,  on  these 
shores,  and  supposed  everything  they  saw  was 
European.  They  met  Indians  going  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Columbia  to  trade.  One  spoke  a  few  words 
of  English,  —  said  they  traded  with  Mr.  Haley; 
showed  things  he  had  given  them.     'T  is  on  the 


46  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    ERADERS. 

records  that  Captain  Heale  of  a  Boston  brig  was 
cruising  on  the  coast. 

In  November,  great  was  the  delight  when  they 
heard  the  roar  of  breakers.  The  fog  lifted  and 
they  beheld  "the  ocean, —  that  ocean,"  says  Clark, 
"the  object  of  all  our  labors,  the  reward  of  all  our 
anxieties."  Captain  Lewis  coasted  along  the  north- 
ern bank  of  the  Columbia's  mouth  to  Cape  Disap- 
pointment and  beyond,  where,  facing  the  sea,  he 
wrote  in  huge  letters,— 


Meriwether  Lewis,  November  14,  1805. 
By  Land  from  the  United  States  in  1804-5. 


Since  the  morning  when  Gray  entered  the 
Columbia,  fourteen  years  before,  the  Chinooks  had 
learned  the  value  of  furs.  On  every  hand  were 
blankets,  sailor-clothes,  guns,  powder  and  ball, — 
the  powder  in  little  japanned  tin  flasks  in  which 
the  traders  sold  it.  Old  King  Comcomly  had  a 
robe  of  sea-otter,  "the  fur  of  which  was  the  most 
beautiful  we  had  ever  seen."  In  vain  Lewis  offered 
everything  he  had, —  nothing  would  purchase  the 
treasured  cloak  but  the  belt  of  blue  beads  worn  by 
Saca-jawea. 

The  rainy  season  had  set  in.  A  sheltered  spot 
on  the  south  bank  of  the  Columbia  was  chosen  for 


THE    STORY    OF    LEWIS    AND    CLARK,  47 

a  winter  fort.      For  the  first    time  axes   rang  in 
those  primeval  wilds,  where,— 

"Loud  from  its  rocky  caverns,  the  deep-voiced    neighboring 
ocean 
Speaks,  and  in  accents  disconsolate  answers  the  wail  of  the 
forest. " 

It  may  read  like  a  romance,  but  it  was  hard 
work,  when  the  constant  rains  soaked  their  leather 
tents  until  they  fell  to  pieces,  when  men  fell  ill 
from  unaccustomed  food,  and  Christmas  brought 
no  tokens  from  loved  ones  far  away.  However, 
they  did  not  sit  down  like  Achilles  and  pout, — 

"  Beside  the  sounding  sea." 

By  sunset  on  Christmas  Eve,  1805,  Fort  Clatsop 
was  completed,  with  comfortable  log  buildings, 
fire-places,  pickets,  gates,  and  a  sentinel  "to  guard 
the  hearth  and  hall."  At  daylight  the  next  morn- 
ing they  fired  salutes,  and  gave  each  other  pres- 
ents, and  made  themselves  as  merry  as  they  could. 

Here  by  the  sea  dwelt  the  Clatsop  Indians,  whose 
kind  old  chief,  Coboway,  incorrectly  called  Como- 
wool  by  Lewis  and  Clark,  was  unwearied  in  atten- 
tion to  the  white  men. 

The  Indians  especially  wanted  blue  and  white 
beads,  the  money  of  that  country,  and  files  to 
sharpen  their  tools.     No  wonder  they  valued  an 


48  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 


old  file:  the  finest  work  of 
their  beautiful  canoes  was 
often  done  with  a  chisel 
fashioned  from  an  old  file. 
Lewis  and  Clark  had  fre- 
quent occasion  to  admire 
their  skill  in  managing 
these  little  boats,  often  out- 
riding the  waves  in  the 
most  tumultuous  seas. 

One  day  Captain  Clark 
was  walking  along  the 
beach  with  a  Clatsop  In- 
dian, looking  for  sturgeon, 
that  were  sometimes  cast 
on  shore.  "  Sturgeon  is 
very  good,"  said  the  Clat- 
sop, in  excellent  English.  And  yet  it  seems  never 
to  have  occurred  to  Clark  that  these  words  were 
learned  from  his  Boston  countrymen. 

"Beside  their  green  fires  burning  merrily,"  the 
people  at  Fort  Clatsop  were  busy  as  bees.  Cruzatte 
played  his  violin;  Chaboneau  and  his  wife  were 
cooks.  The  hunters  killed  121  elk  in  the  vicinity 
that  winter.  Some  dressed  the  skins,  and  made 
garments  and  moccasins.  Some  of  the  meat  was 
dried.    Candles  were  made  of  the  tallow.    Salt  was 


Captain  Clark  visited  Chief 
Coboway's  comfortable  village 
on  the  south  side  of  a  hill.  Cobo- 
way's house,  like  all  the  others, 
was  sunk  four  feet  in  the  ground, 
rising  well  above,  with  walls, 
roof,  and  gables  of  split  pine 
boards.  The  door  was  entered 
through  a  ladder .  Two  fires  were 
in  the  middle.  Long  boards  were 
fixed  two  or  three  feet  from  the 
floor,  around  the  walls,  for  beds. 
Under  the  beds  were  bags,  bas- 
kets, and  winter  stores. 

As  soon  as  Clark  entered, 
clean  mats  were  spread.  Mrs. 
Coboway  brought  fish,  berries, 
and  roots  on  neat  platters  of 
rushes.  Syrup  of  berries  was 
served  in  bowls  of  horn,  and 
meat  in  wooden  trenchers.  For 
his  own  housekeeping,  Clark 
bought  cranberries, mats, spoons 
of  horn,  and  beautifully  woven 
water-tight  baskets. 


THE    STORY    OF    LEWIS    AND    CLARK.  49 

made  from  sea-water,  "fine  and  white,  and  very 
good."1  Books  were  written.  Every  day  of  that 
winter  of  1805-06,  Lewis  and  Clark  were  prepar- 
ing voluminous  records  of  Oregon  plants  and 
trees,  birds  and  beasts  and  fishes.  Rivers  they 
had  named  and  mountains  measured,  and  with 
wanderings  more  than  Homer's  heroes,  were  ready 
now  to  carry  a  new  geography  to  the  states. 

The  explorers  wished  to  remain  at  Fort  Clatsop 
until  traders  came  into  the  river,  but  in  March 
the  elk  went  to  the  mountains.  Food  was  scarce. 
Their  old  clothes  had  fallen  to  rags  long  since. 
Now  they  were  "hairy  men,"  clad  all  in  skins, 
with  unshaved  beards  and  unshorn  hair. 

On  Sunday  morning,  March  23,  1806,  they  bade 
adieu  to  Clatsop,  and  turned  their  faces  eastward. 
Fort  and  furniture  were  given  to  Coboway,  —  "the 
most  decent  and  civilized  savage  we  have  seen  in 
these  parts,"  they  said. 

While  Lewis  and  Clark  were  making  prepara- 
tions to  start,  all  unknown  to  them  that  Boston 
brig  Juno,  that  the  Russians  had  bought,  was  try- 
ing to  enter  the  Columbia  with  the  Russian  Im- 
perial Inspector  of  Alaska  on  board. 

"We  will  found  a  settlement,"  he  said,  "and 

1  The  cairn  where  Lewis  and  Clark  made  salt  has  recently 
been  discovered  on  Clatsop  beach. 


50  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

drive  those  Bostonians  from  the  trade  forever." 
"Then,"  said  Rezanof,  "in  the  course  of  ten  years 
we  should  be  strong  enough  to  make  use  of  any 
favorable  turn  in  European  politics  to  include  the 
coast  in  the  Russian  possessions." 

After  trying  three  days 
to  enter  the  river,  the  Rus- 
sians gave  it  up,  and  left 
Oregon  for  the  infant  re- 
public then  kicking  in  her 
cradle  on  the  Atlantic. 
Not    much    longer    could 


Rezanof  sighted  the  Columbia 
March  14,  1806,  but  the  current 
drove  him  back.  Again,  on  the 
20th,  lie  tried  to  enter,  and  on 
the  21st,  but  the  gallant  river, 
like  a  thing  of  life,  behaved  as 
she  always  did  when  strangers 
came,  and  beat  him  back,  and 
beat  him  back,  to  save  the  land 
for  us. 


this  Pacific  land  remain  concealed. 

On  the  wall  at  Fort  Clatsop,  Lewis  and  Clark 
left  a  muster-roll  of  every  name  in  the  expedition, 
with  a  brief  statement  of  their  journey.  Copies 
were  left  with  the  coast  chiefs  to  give  to  any  pass- 
ing ship,  that,  in  case  they  perished,  some  report 
might  reach  the  civilized  world.  In  July,  the 
Boston  brig  Lydia,  having  just  rescued  Jewett 
from  the  savages  at  Vancouver  Island,  ran  into 
the  Columbia  River.  Ten  miles  up,  faithful  old 
Chief  Coboway  gave  Captain  Hill  the  document 
left  in  his  hands  by  Lewis  and  Clark.  This,  sent 
by  way  of  Canton,  reached  the  United  States  to 
find  the  explorers  safe  at  home. 

The  Multnomah  (Willamette)  was  discovered  on 


THE    STORY    OF    LEWIS    AND    CLARK.  51 

the  return  journey.  Clark  rowed  up  to  the  present 
site  of  Portland.  "Indeed,"  says  Clark,  "there 
is  water  enough  for  the  largest  ship;  nor  is  it  rash 
to  believe  it  may  water  the  land  as  far  as  Califor- 
nia." 

Afar  he  saw  a  peak,  and  named  it  Mount  Jeffer- 
son. Indians  told  him  of  "the  Falls  where  the 
Clackamos  dwelt,"  and  of  the  smallpox  that,  a 
generation  before,  had  decimated  all  the  tribes  of 
Oregon.  William  Cullen  Bryant  had  read  the  re- 
port of  Lewis  and  Clark  when,  as  a  boy  of 
eighteen,  he  wrote  those  wonderful  lines.— 

"Lose  thyself  in  the  continuous  woods 
Where  rolls  the  Oregon,  and  hears  no  sound 
Save  his  own  dashings, — yet  the  dead  are  there." 

With  the  long  journey  before  them,  the  explor- 
ers found  their  stock  of  trading  goods  almost  ex- 
hausted. About  all  that  remained  was  a  stock  of 
drugs.  From  the  first  the  Indians  believed  the 
white  men  "very  great  medicine."  Now  they 
knew  it.     The  sick  were  brought. 

Captain  Clark  turned  doctor.  He  gave  them 
eye-water  for  inflamed  eyes.  An  abscess  was 
lanced;  the  patient  slept  for  the  first  time  in  days. 
A  paralyzed  chief  was  given  a  heroic  sweat-bath; 
wonderful  to  relate,  he  began  to  use  his  limbs. 
Faith  works  wonders;  simple  remedies,  and  some 


THE    STORY    OF    LEWIS    AND    CLARK.  53 

knowledge  of  medicine,  worked  still  more.  The 
grateful  Indians  piled  their  tents  with  choice  sup- 
plies, and  a  good  outfit  was  made  for  return. 

With  summer  the  cavalcade  of  white  men  dis- 
appeared beyond  the  mountains,  and  the  Indians, 
left  to  themselves,  talked  and  talked  around  their 
fires  of  all  the  things  the  white  men  told  them. 

As  Columbus  and  Magellan  crossed  the  seas,  so 
Lewis  and  Clark  had  crossed  the  plains  and  the 
mountains,  and  were  now  returning  from  our 
first  great  national  epic  of  exploration.  Back  they 
came,  through  seas  of  buffalo,  where  tawny  calves 
were  frisking  by  their  mothers,  all  unconscious  of 
impending  fate.  Once  they  had  to  wait  an  hour 
for  a  herd  of  buffalo  to  cross  the  Yellowstone 
before  the  boats  could  go  on.  The  Crows  stole 
Clark's  horses.  The  Blackfeet  tried  to  carry  off 
Lewis's  guns  and  horses.  The  Captain  fired,  and 
killed  a  Blackfoot.  Oh!  the  rage  and  fury  of  the 
Blackfeet!  For  fifty  years  they  lay  in  wait  to 
murder  every  white  man  that  crossed  their  track. 

Floating  down  the  Missouri,  Lewis  and  Clark 
met  two  white  men,  hunters  from  the  Illinois 
country,  the  first  of  all  that  host  that  afterward 
pushed  on  through  to  the  farthest  West. 

It  was  a  savage-looking  lot  of  men,  bronzed  and 
bearded,  and  with  Crusoe  locks,  that  came  again 


54  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

to  St.  Louis.  They  had  been  given  up  as  dead. 
Immediately  an  express  was  sent  to  President 
Jefferson  with  a  report  of  what  they  had  done. 
The  return  of  Lewis  and  Clark  was  heralded 
with  rejoicing.  Two  and  one  half  years  had 
elapsed  in  a  journey  through  eight  thousand 
miles  of  wilderness,  that  now  can  be  traversed 
in  a  few  days.  For  the  first  time  white  men  had 
measured  the  way  to  the  western  sea,  between  the 
British  possessions  on  the  north  and  the  Spanish 
on  the  south.  Another  link  had  been  forged  in 
our  chain  of  title  to  "the  Oregon  country." 

BLACKBOARD    STUDIES. 

Saea-jawea  (sac-ii-ja-we'a).     The  bird-woman. 

Shoshones  (sho-sho'nez).     The  Snake  Indians. 

Albert  Gallatin.  Distinguished  American  statesman;  Sec- 
retary of  the  Treasury. 

Comcomly  (kum-kum'ly).     Noted  Chinook  chief. 

Willamette  (will-am' et).     Stream  of  peace. 

Nez  Perces  (na-peVcy).     The  pierced-nose  Indians. 

epic  (ep'ik).  A  heroic  poem;  as,  Homer's  "Iliad"  and  the 
"Odyssey." 


STORY  OF  JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR. 


HILE  excitement  attendant  upon 
the  return  of  Lewis  and  Clark 
was  at  its  height,  John  Jacob 
^\f  LJ  Astor  wrote  to  President  Jeffer- 
son about  establishing  the  fur 
trade  on  the  Columbia. 

"  You  shall  have  every  facility 
and  protection  the  government  can  properly  af- 
ford," answered  Jefferson.  "I  look  forward  to  the 
time  when  free  and  independent  Americans  shall 
have  spread  through  the  whole  length  of  that 
coast." 

Already  Mr.  Astor  had  a  great  fur  trade  on  the 
lakes,  and  even  to  the  headwaters  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi. The  Napoleonic 
scheme  suggested  itself  of 
establishing  fur -trading 
forts  along  the  line  of  Lewis 
and  Clark  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Columbia,  where  he 
would  set  up  a  vast  empo- 
rium for  all  the  coast  and 

55 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 

Astor  forms  Pacific  Fur 
Company. 

Engages  voyage urs  in 
Canada. 

See  Irving' s  "Astoria." 

The  War  of  1 8 1 2 .  Asto- 
ria lost. 

Astoria  restored,  1818. 


MULTNOMAH    FALLS. 


STORY    OF    JOHN    JACOB    ASTOR.  57 

inland  waters.  From  here,  shiploads  of  furs  could 
cross  to  China,  exchange  for  nankeens,  teas,  and 
silks,  and,  returning  around  Cape  Horn,  land  in 
New  York  to  reload  with  trading  goods  for  the  Co- 
lumbia. It  was  a  magnificent  dream,  that  meant 
control  of  the  North  Pacific,  a  golden  round  of 
commerce  pouring  wealth 
from  our  own  wilds  into 
the  lap  of  the  republic,  and 
at  the  same  time  building 
a  powerful  American  state 
on  the  west. 

Along  with  the  Colum- 
bia, the  Russian  posts  at 
Sitka  were  to  be  supplied, 


in  exchange  for  still  more 


John  Jacob  Astor,  an  un- 
known German  immigrant  boy, 
landed  in  New  York  in  1783,  just 
at  the  close  of  the  Revolution. 
Down  Broadway  he  noted  fine 
houses,  the  talk  of  the  city. 
"  Some  day  I  '11  build  a  greater 
house  than  any  of  these, ' '  said 
the  confident  youth.  He  became 
a  furrier's  clerk,  studied  furs, 
bought  furs,  married  a  girl  who 
knew  more  about  furs  than  he 
did,  sent  furs  to  London,  then 
more  furs  and  more,  until  now 
he  was  exporting  in  his  own  ves- 
sels, returning  with  merchant 
cargoes,  and  rapidly  amassing 
a  fortune. 


furs  for  China.  To  make 
this  arrangement,  Astor 
dispatched  a  special  mes- 
senger to  the  Russian-American  fur  directors  at 
St.  Petersburg,  and  sent  a  large  ship,  the  Enter- 
prise, around  with  goods  to  Sitka. 

And  at  his  emporium  on  the  Columbia,  whom 
better  could  Mr.  Astor  employ  than  the  hardy 
hunters  of  Canada,  trained  in  the  fur  companies 
of  Hudson's  Bay  and  the  Northwest?  One  sum- 
mer evening  in  1810,  the  gay  Canadians  engaged 


58  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

by  Astor  came  singing  down  the  Hudson,  in  a 
birch-bark  canoe,  to  New  York  City.  The  leader 
of  these  French-Canadian  voyageurs  was  a  Scotch- 
man, Alexander  McKay,  who  had  traveled  with 
Alexander  McKenzie  on  that  overland  journey 
from  Canada  to  the  Pacific  in  1792-93.  McKen- 
zie went  back  to  England,  where  he  was  knighted 
by  the  king,  as  the  first  white  man  that  ever 
crossed  the  continent  of  North  America.  McKay 
remained  a  trader  in  Canada,  and  now  became  a 
partner  of  John  Jacob  Astor  in  his  great  Pacific 
Fur  Company.  In  that  birch-bark  canoe,  McKay 
brought  his  little  son,  Tom,  who  was  destined  to 
grow  up  into  a  famous  hunter  in  the  far-off  Ore- 
gon. 

Besides  McKay,  Mr.  Astor  took  several  other 
partners :  Donald  McKenzie  (a  relative  of  Sir 
Alexander),  Duncan  McDougal,  David  and  Robert 
Stuart,  and  Ramsay  Crooks,  all  Scotchmen  of 
Canada.  There  were  three  other  partners, — - 
Americans, — Wilson  Price  Hunt  of  New  Jersey, 
Robert  McClellan,  and  John  Clark.  Mr.  Astor 
agreed  to  manage  the  New  York  end  and  furnish 
all  the  supplies.     And  well  he  did  his  part. 

It  was  a  bright  September  day  of  1810  when 
Astor's  ship,  the  Tonquin,  sailed  out  from  New 
York,  with  McKay,  McDougal,  the  Stuarts,  and 


STORY  OF  JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR.         59 

clerks,  laborers,  and  supplies,  to  start  a  settle- 
ment at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia.  Trouble  was 
brewing  with  British  ships;  they  were  impressing 
American  seamen.  To  make  sure  that  his  little 
Tonquin  would  get  safely  away,  Mr.  Astor  soli- 
cited the  aid  of  the  frigate  Constitution,  and  so, 
far  out  to  sea  "  Old  Ironsides  "  accompanied  the 
venturesome  trading-ship  on  her  way  to  the  dis- 
tant Pacific.  About  the  same  time,  Mr.  Hunt, 
with  McKenzie,  McClellan,  Crooks,  and  hunters, 
started  overland  along  the  track  of  Lewis  and 
Clark. 

The  Tonquin  reached  the  Columbia  at  the 
opening  of  an  Oregon  spring,  1811.  "It  is  like 
Eden,"  exclaimed  Franchere,  the  clerk.  The 
forests  seemed  delightful  groves;  the  very  leaves 
were  brilliant  flowers. 

Old  King  Comcomly  of  the  Chinooks,  the  same 
friendly  tribe  that  greeted  Gray  when  he  discov- 
ered the  Columbia,  was  on  hand  to  welcome  the 
fur  traders.  Duncan  McDougal  and  David  Stuart 
spent  a  night  at  Comcomly's  village.  At  dawn 
the  waves  ran  high.  Comcomly  urged  them  not 
to  go  back  to  the  ship,  but  they  launched  their 
boat.  With  anxious  eye  the  old  chief  watched, 
he  followed  in  his  light  canoe;  just  as  a  gale  upset 
the  white  men,  he  skipped  across  the  waves  and 


60 


WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 


snatched  them  from  the  deep.  Half-drowned,  he 
bore  them  back  to  his  cedar  hut,  built  big  fires 
and  dried  their  clothes,  and  kept  them  till  the 
storm  was  past.  McDougal  afterward  married 
King  Comcomly's  Indian  daughter.     Washington 

Irving  will  tell  you  all 
about  that  in  his  charm- 
ing book,  "Astoria." 

On  a  green  slope  over- 
looking the  Columbia,  a 
roomy  mansion  was  built 
of  stone  and  clay.  Clus- 
tered near,  were  shops  for 
carpenters,  blacksmiths, 
traders,  and  warehouses 
for  furs  and  merchandise. 
A  stockade  fifteen  feet  high 
surrounded  all,  with  bas- 
tions furnished  with  small 
cannon  and  musketry. 
Sloping  down  to  the  river 
in  front,  ere  long  a  kitchen 
garden  bloomed.  Back  of  all  rose  the  Oregon  for- 
est. And  this  was  Fort  Astoria.  A  little  schooner 
for  coast  and  river  use  was  built,  and  named  the 
Dolly,  for  Mrs.  Astor. 

In  that  first  year  the  busy  Astorians  explored  ten 


One  day,  when  the  Astorians 
were  paddling  up  the  Colum- 
bia, their  curiosity  was  greatly 
aroused  by  the  discovery  of  the 
remains  of  a  former  settlement . 
At  the  very  time  John  Jacob 
Astor  was  planning  his  expe- 
ditions, a  Boston  sea  captain, 
Jonathan  Winship,  already  on 
the  Columbia,  landed  his  men 
and  began  a  settlement.  Cap- 
tain Winship  and  his  men  built 
a  two-story  log  house  or  fortress 
at  Oak  Point,  forty  miles  from 
the  sea.  Out  of  his  ship,  the 
Albatross,  they  landed  hogs  and 
goats,  and  dug  a  garden,  —  the 
first  soil  broken  by  white  men 
in  Oregon.  But  the  Indians 
made  them  no  end  of  trouble, 
and  finally  the  June  rise  of  the 
river  swept  all  their  work  away. 
It  was  the  logs  of  Winship's 
house  that  Astor's  people  saw 
at  this  abandoned  settlement. 


STORY    OF    JOHN    JACOB    ASTOR.  61 

thousand  miles.  David  Stuart,  with  eight  men 
and  goods,  went  up  the  Columbia,  and  built  Fort 
Okanogan.  Leaving  one  clerk,  Ross,  there,  alone 
among  the  Indians,  for  the  winter,  Stuart  went  on 
up  into  the  Kamloops  country,  and  almost  to  the 
Fraser.  During  Stuart's  absence,  Ross  purchased 
of  the  Indians  1,550  beaver-skins  at  about  five- 
pence  apiece,  worth  in  the  Canton  market  not  less 
than  $10,000.  Some  of  the  men  spent  the  winter 
up  the  Willamette,  where  they  built  a  dwelling  and 
a  trading  house,  and  brought  home  in  the  spring 
thirty-two  bales  of  dried  venison  and  seventeen 
packs  of  furs.  Others  penetrated  as  far  as  the 
Umpqua,  where  beaver  were  still  more  plentiful 
than  on  the  Willamette. 

During  that  winter,  Hunt's  overland  party 
reached  the  Dalles.  Here  they  heard  from  the 
Indians  that  white  men  had  built  a  great  house  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  and  were  anxiously 
looking  for  their  friends  who  were  coming  over 
the  mountains.  With  hollow  cheeks  and  hungry 
eyes  they  pushed  on  to  Astoria.  A  day  was  spent 
in  jubilee.  The  Stars  and  Stripes  floated  over  the 
fort,  and  guns  and  cannon  woke  the  Columbia. 
Hunt  had  had  a  terrible  experience  in  his  over- 
land journey.  On  account  of  the  hostility  of  the 
Blackfeet,  he  had  deflected  from  the  route  of  Lewis 


62  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

and  Clark,  and  endured  great  hardships  of  hunger 
and  thirst  in  the  Snake  River  country.  Perishing 
of  thirst,  his  party  wandered  along  the  steep,  rocky 
sides  of  that  river,  unable  to  reach  the  cool  waters 
in  sight  far  below.  Several  were  lost  by  drown- 
ing and  by  other  accidents.  A  landmark  of  that 
weary  journey  is  the  John  Day  River,  where  poor 
John  Day,  a  Kentucky  hunter,  robbed  and  stripped 
by  the  Indians,  wandered  for  days,  and  almost  lost 
his  life. 

While  yet  the  men  were  relating  adventures 
by  land  and  sea,  a  ship  was  seen  cautiously  cross- 
ing the  bar.  Old  Comcomly  hauled  out  his 
canoe.  McDougal  and  his  boatmen  followed. 
What  shouts!  It  was  the  Beaver,  a  merchant  ship 
sent  by  Astor,  with  reinforcements  and  supplies. 
All  now  was  animation.  In  June,  a  brigade  of 
sixty-two  men  left  Fort  Astoria,  in  ten  boats  and 
two  barges  laden  with  all  that  delights  the  Indian 
heart.  Robert  Stuart  started  overland  for  the 
States,  with  dispatches;  others  carried  supplies 
for  forts  up  the  Columbia,  among  the  Nez  Perces, 
the  Spokanes,  and  at  Okanogan.' 

In  August,  Hunt  went  up  the  coast  on  the 
Beaver  to  complete  negotiations  with  the  Russians 
at  Sitka.  Old  Count  Baranoff  spied  Hunt's  ship 
in  the  offing,  and  saluted  with  his  brazen  guns, 


STORY    OF    JOHN    JACOB    ASTOR.  63 

and  hoisted  the  Russian  flag  to  the  top  of  his  light- 
house tower.  This  doughty  lord  of  Fur-land,  like 
an  old  Norse  viking,  was  now  in  the  prime  of  his 
power,  driving  Alaskan  slaves  with  incessant  toil, 
and  making  the  northern  nights  ring  with  his 
revels. 

The  bearded  Baranoff  led  Hunt  into  his  strong 
old  fort  of  heavy  hewn  cedar  on  the  isle  of  Sitka, 
and  detained  him  there,  an  honored  guest.  On 
every  hand,  to  his  astonishment,  Hunt  saw  mag- 
nificent furniture  that  had  been  brought  from  St. 
Petersburg,  and  a  library  embracing  nearly  all 
European  languages.  There  was  a  collection  of 
fine  paintings  in  this  wild,  where  no  visitor  ever 
came,  except  skippers  of  American  vessels.  There 
was  orchestral  music  and  singing,  and  Baranoff' s 
daughter  played  the  piano. 

Bitterly  to  Hunt  did  Baranoff  talk  of  the  Boston 
skippers,  who  came  into  his  own  waters,  buying 
up  his  skins,  and  selling  dangerous  arms  and 
ammunition  to  the  Indians,  putting  him  and  his 
people  in  constant  peril.  Gladly  would  he  make 
a  compact  with  Astor  to  cut  off  all  this  irregular 
trade,  and  get  the  Indians  more  into  subjection. 
After  days  of  drinking  and  dancing  and  dining, 
Hunt  was  able  to  complete  his  mission  in  estab- 
lishing an  alliance  of  trade  and  friendship  between 


64  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

the  Russian  and  American  fur  companies.  When 
at  last  the  Beaver  sailed  away,  priceless  piles  of  seal- 
skin were  snugly  stowed  in  his  ship  for  China. 

Mr.  Astor  had  directed  the  Beaver  to  return  from 
Sitka  by  way  of  Astoria  and  take  on  furs  before 
proceeding  to  Canton.  The  captain,  however,  in- 
sisted on  running  to  the  Sandwich  Islands.  Here 
Hunt  heard  of  the  War  of  1812.  He  knew  Astoria 
would  be  a  point  of  attack.  More  than  anything 
else,  the  British  fur  companies  feared  the  compe- 
tition of  a  man  like  John  Jacob  Astor.  They  had 
met  him  in  the  North,  had  fought  him  in  the 
East;  now  they  faced  him  in  the  West.  When 
Astor  engaged  those  Canadians,  the  Northwest 
company  hastened  to  head  him  off.  Before  their 
agents,  however,  could  reach  the  rich  fur-lands  of 
the  Columbia,  Astor  was  on  the  ground  and  in 
possession. 

"  You  may  take  the  ship  to  China,"  said  Hunt  to 
the  captain;  "  I  will  get  to  Oregon  some  other  way." 
Weeks  rolled  by.  No  other  ship  appeared.  Hunt, 
anxious,  despairing,  was  imprisoned  at  Hawaii. 

The  people  at  Fort  Astoria  were  in  a  tumult. 
Through  Indians,  they  heard  that  the  crew  of  the 
Tonquin  had  been  massacred  by  savages  at  Van- 
couver's Island.  It  was  too  true.  McKay  had 
gone  on  that  good  ship  Tonquin  on  a  trading-trip, 


STORY    OF   JOHN    JACOB    ASTOR.  65 

and  had  lost  his  life  opposite  that  very  coast  that 
he,  with  McKenzie,  had  visited  from  Canada,  the 
first  of  living  white  men.  Young  Tom  McKay's 
heart  was  nearly  broken.  Kind-hearted  old  King 
Comcomly  took  him  home  to  his  Chinooks  to 
comfort  him. 

And  now  the  Beaver  came  not.  Was  she,  too, 
lost?  The  men  at  the  lonely  little  Fort  Astoria 
strained  and  strained  their  eyes  upon  the  sea. 
Then  came  news  of  the  war.  Dugald  McTavish, 
a  partner  of  the  Northwest  Fur  Company,  came 
overland  from  Canada,  bringing  word  that  a  North- 
west supply-ship  was  en  route  to  the  Columbia,  con- 
voyed by  a  British  fleet  with  orders  to  destroy  or 
capture  Fort  Astoria  and  plant  the  British  flag. 

"We  must  fight  or  fly,  or  make  terms  with  the 
enemy,"  said  McDougal.  McTavish  was  an  old 
friend  of  McDougal.  He  offered  to  buy  them  out. 
"  If  relief  does  not  come  in  a  ye&v,  we  will  sell," 
said  McDougal. 

Painful  was  the  suspense  of  Mr.  Astor  at  his 
home  in  New  York  City.  Were  his  expeditions 
safe?  Were  they  lost?  And  now  the  war.  That 
colony  must  be  sustained.  Before  autumn  the 
British  might  blockade  New  York.  In  March  he 
fitted  out  the  swift-sailing  Lark,  and  dispatched 
her  to  sea.     "That  may  tide  them  over,"  he  said. 


66  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Gloomily  musing  at  his  window,  Astor  sat  one 
April  night.  The  evening  paper  was  brought. 
Through  the  twilight,  what  caught  his  eye  like  a 
burst  of  sunshine?  "Stuart's  party  at  St.  Louis. 
Hunt  and  the  Beaver  safe  on  the  Columbia.  All 
well."  Overwrought  feelings  gave  "way.  Mr. 
Astor  almost  fell  on  his  knees  in  a  transport  of 
gratitude.  Filled  with  new  courage,  he  fitted 
out  a  fourth  ship,  the  Enterprise,  but  before  she 
cleared  the  harbor  a  British  fleet  appeared  off 
Sandy  Hook. 

The  Boston  merchants,  too,  were  alarmed  by 
the  war.  It  meant  the  destruction  of  their  Pacific 
trade.  The  Winships  dispatched  their  fast-sail- 
ing Albatross  to  give  warning  to  all  Boston  ships 
in  the  Pacific.  Like  little  birds  when  the  big 
hawk  comes,  the  Boston  brigs  on  that  northwest 
coast  fled  to  cover,  hiding  in  nooks  and  bays 
where  the  British  warships  would  never  think  of 
looking.  It  was  the  Albatross  that  found  Hunt  at 
the  Hawaiian  Islands  and  carried  him  over  to 
Oregon. 

The  Astorians,  still  straining  their  eyes  out  to 
sea,  noted  with  wonder  a  strange  ship  sailing  so 
boldly  over  the  bar.  Ah,  very  well  the  Albatross 
knew  the  way  into  the  Columbia,  for  she  was  the 
gallant  ship  that  the  Winships  had  sent  to  make  a 


STORY    OF    JOHN    JACOB    ASTOR.  67 

settlement  at  Oak  Point,  before  even  Astor  came 
into  the  river. 

When  Hunt  arrived  at  Astoria  he  quickly  grasped 
the  situation.  Were  not  all,  or  nearly  all,  of  these 
men  British  subjects?  How  could  they  fight  their 
own  people?  Hunt  decided  to  hasten  back  on  the 
Albatross  and  bring  some  sort  of  transport  from 
the  Islands  to  save  the  property  and  carry  it  to 
Sitka.  With  Hunt  gone  again,  bugaboos  waxed 
greater:  war;  no  supply-ship;  rival  Northwesters; 
battle-ships  hourly  expected;  above  all,  who  could 
stand  against  King  George?  So  reasoned  Astor's 
Canadian  employees. 

A  few  were  not  frightened.  They  had  done 
well;  prospects  were  good.  "Why  not  move  our 
effects  up  the  river  to  some  small  stream,  and  let 
them  burn  the  fort  if  they  want  to?"  said  Fran- 
chere.  "They  cannot  follow  us."  But  Franchere 
was  only  a  clerk. 

"Three  years  of  toil,  and  then  surrender?"  ex- 
claimed Ross.     But  he,  too,  was  only  a  clerk. 

The  Canadian  partners  sold  Astor  out.  Goods 
worth  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  went  for  less 
than  forty  thousand  dollars.  Two  weeks  after 
the  transfer,  the  Raccoon,  British  man-of-war,  ap- 
peared. Great  was  the  disappointment  of  officers 
and  men  when  they  found  the  prize  had  slipped 
their  grasp. 


68 


WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 


"The  Yankees  are  always  beforehand  with 
us,"  said  Captain  Black.  When  he  saw  the  fort 
he  had  sailed  half-round  the  world  to  reach, 
"This  the  enemy's  stronghold  requiring  a  navy 

to  conquer?",  he  thun- 
dered. "  With  a  single 
four-pounder  I  could  bat- 
ter it  down  in  two  hours." 
Nevertheless,  the  Captain 
took  possession  in  the 
name  of  the  King,  and 
Fort  Astoria  was  renamed 
Fort  George. 

At  Hawaii,  Hunt  found 
the  Lark  a  wreck.  He 
bought  a  brig  and  sped  to 
Oregon.  Too  late.  The  fort 
was  sold.  Sold  ?  When 
Astor  heard  of  it,  how  he 
raged!  "The  very  idea  is 
like  a  dagger  in  my  heart. 
Had  I  been  on  the  spot,  I 
should  have  defied  them  all." 

If  Astor  had  succeeded,  there  is  every  reason 
to  believe  that  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  would 
never  have  gained  a  foothold  in  Oregon,  and  that 
in  all  probability  the  British  flag  might  not  to-day 
float  over  British  Columbia. 


When  old  King  Comcomly 
saw  the  British  man-of-war  ap- 
proaching with  her  guns,  he 
rigged  up  his  Chinook  warriors 
in  great  haste  and  hurried  to 
the  fort. 

"Ugh,  ugh,  ugh,  we  hide  in 
bush  and  shoot  'em  when  they 
land,"  whispered  old  Comcomly 
in  great  excitement  to  his  son- 
in-law. 

The  British  boats  were  com- 
ing with  the  red-coats,  all  armed 
with  guns.  McDougal dissuaded 
his  warlike  father-in-law  from 
any  act  of  hostility.  The  won- 
dering Indians  stood  back  and 
watched  proceedings.  When 
they  saw  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
come  down  and  the  flag  of  Eng- 
land go  up,  old  Comcomly  shook 
his  head. 

"Ugh,  ugh,"  he  grunted. 
"  They  try  to  hide  it,  but  I  see. 
Bostons  all  slaves.  I  thought 
my  daughter  marry  a  great 
warrior.  Ugh,  ugh,  he  only 
squaw-man." 


STORY    OF   JOHN    JACOB    ASTOR. 


69 


Astor  afterward  made  headquarters  at  St.  Louis, 
and,  in  partnership  with  Ashley,  for  years  sent 
trapping  and  trading  parties  to  the  upper  Missouri, 
and  into  the  Green  River  Valley,  and  along  the 
slopes  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. He-  never  rested 
until  Astoria  was  returned 
to  the  United  States.  But 
though  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  went  up  again 
above  Astoria  to  fly  for- 
ever, the  original  projector 
never  resumed  business  at 
the  old  stand  on  the  Pa- 
cific. Mr.  Astor  found  that 
the  Northwesters,  and  af- 
terward the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company,  had  so  in- 
trenched themselves  in  his 


In  1822,  W.  H.  Ashley  built  a 
fort  on  the  Yellowstone.  In 
1824  he  crossed  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  named  the  Green 
River  branch  of  the  Colorado, 
and  discovered  the  famous 
South  Pass,  the  highway  of  the 
nation,  where,  by  and  by,  the 
immigrants  crossed  and  the 
railroad  goes  to-day.  In  1825  he 
reached  Great  Salt  Lake,  built 
a  fort,  and  left  a  hundred  men. 
The  land  was  rich  in  furs.  In 
three  years  Ashley  captured  one 
hundred  and  eighty  thousand 
dollars'  worth  of  peltries.  In 
1828,  a  cannon  was  hauled  on 
wheels  to  Ashley's  fort  on  Great 
Salt  Lake.  Then  the  great  trap- 
per went  back  to  die  at  the 
town  of  Daniel  Boone,  in  Mis- 
souri. 


old  posts,  and  had  added  new  ones,  that  it  was 
impossible  to  make  headway  against  them.  For 
years  American  traders  tried  to  gain  a  foothold 
there,  but  not  until  immigrants  followed  the  trail 
of  the  traders  and  set  up  homes  and  farms  on  the 
old  hunting-grounds,  could  any  Americans  make 
headway  in  Oregon. 


DR.    JOHN    MCLOUGHLIN,    THE    FATHER   OF   OREGON. 


THE    STORY    OF    McLOUGHLIN. 


HE  grandest  flotilla  that  had  yet 
appeared  at  Fort  Astoria  came 
down  the  Columbia  in  1824, 
bearing  the  new  Pacific  com- 
mander of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company,  Dr.  John  McLoughlin. 
Far  to  the  northeast  McLaughl- 
in was  born,  just  north  of  the  Maine  border, 
in  the  days  of  our  Revolution.  When  his  father 
was  drowned,  his  young  mother  returned  with  her 
children  to  the  home  of  her  father,  Malcolm 
Fraser.  These  are  the  Frasers  who  named  Fraser 
River  in  British  Columbia;  the  Frasers  whose 
daring  captains  have  led 
Scotch  Highlanders  over 
half  the  world.  The  old 
stone  mansion  stands  yet, 
overlooking  the  St.  Law- 
rence, the  home  of  Mc- 
Loughlin's  boyhood. 

John    McLoughlin 's 
brother,  David,  went  into 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 

Arrival  of  McLoughlin. 

Fort  Vancouver  founded. 

Treaty    with  the  Dalles 
Indians. 

The  Brigades. 

Boston  Ships. 

American  settlers. 


72 


WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 


Dr.  John    McLouglilin 

was  born  of  Highland  Scotch 
parentage  at  Riviere  du  Loup, 
Canada,  in  1784.  As  a  youth  he 
studied  medicine  and  entered 
the  Northwest  Fur  Company 
about  the  year  1800.  When  the 
Northwest  and  Hudson's  Bay 
companies  coalesced  in  1821  he 
was  one  of  the  delegates  to  the 
London  council  and  strove  for 
better  terms  for  those  bearing 
the  burden  of  their  work  in  the 
fur  country.  On  account  of 
his  high  character  and  practi- 
cal ability  he  was  appointed  to 
the  Columbia  in  1823,  and  ar- 
rived at  Astoria  the  following 
year.  In  1824  he  located  the 
site  of  Fort  Vancouver.  In 
1825  he  received  one  bushel  each 
of  wheat,  oats,  barley,  and  corn 
and  one  quart  of  timothy  seed 
from  York  Factory  on  Hudson's 
Bay,  and  these  were  planted  in 
1826.  In  1828  he  advised  his  re- 
tired Canadian  servantstosettle 
intheWillametteValley.  Inl829 
he  located  the  future  town  site 
of  Oregon  City.  When  mission- 
aries arrived  hegave  them  every 
encouragement  and  assistance, 
and  when  settlers  flocked  in  he 
lent  them  food,  clothing,  boats, 
seed,  and  implements  to  open 
farms.  In  1844  he  resigned  his 
post  with  the  fur  company  and 
removed  to  Oregon  City, became 
an  American  citizen,  built  saw 
and  grist  mills,  and  assisted  in 
the  development  of  the  colony 
until  his  death  in  1857. 


the  wars  against  Napoleon, 
but  John  himself  studied 
medicine  and  joined  the 
Northwest  Fur  Company. 
Very  soon  his  talents  led 
to  posts  of  command.  The 
very  year  that  his  friend 
Alexander  McKay  went 
away  to  join  his  fortunes 
with  Astor,  Dr.  McLougli- 
lin was  in  command  at 
Sault  Ste.  Marie.  In  com- 
mon with  his  company,  he 
had  met  Astor,  faced  him, 
fought  him  in  the  fur  trade 
on  the  Lakes  ;  now,  no 
Northwester  watched  more 
eagerly  the  Oregon  adven- 
ture. 

News  came  of  McKay's 
death  in  that  far  north- 
west, but  another  foe  had 
risen,  nearer  and  harder 
to  meet,  a  foe  that  could 
not  be  bought  out,  as 
Astor's  men  had  been.  It 
was     the    Hudson's     Bay 


THE    STORY    OF    McLOUGHLIN.  73 

Company.  In  real  feudal  fashion  these  rival  fur 
companies,  the  Northwest  and  the  Hudson's  Bay, 
fought  on  the  plains  of  North  America,  and  be- 
sieged each  other's  castellated  forts.  The  old, 
aristocratic  Hudson's  Bay  Company  claimed  the 
earth.  Did  they  not  date  back  to  King  Charles 
in  1670,  who  gave  to  his  "  beloved  cousin,"  Prince 
Rupert,  a  monopoly  of  all  the  furs  of  Hudson's 
Bay?  And  who  were  these  upstarts,  the  North- 
westers, that  dared  to  set  their  traps  on  Hudson's 
Bay  preserves  ?  But  McKenzie,  the  greatest  of 
the  Northwesters,  had  even  followed  a  great  river 
to  the  Arctic  and  given  to  it  his  name.  He  had 
crossed  to  the  Pacific,  opening  up  a  whole  new 
world  of  fur-land.  The  King  had  knighted  Mc- 
Kenzie. The  Northwesters,  proud  of  their  laurels, 
bold  in  exploits,  defied  the  Hudson's  Bay. 

But  when  Parliament,  over  in  England,  heard 
that  the  two  British  fur  companies  in  North 
America  were  fighting,  they  put  a  stop  to  it. 
Peace  must  reign  in  Britain's  dominion.  The 
rival  fur  companies  were  persuaded  to  compro- 
mise, to  unite  ;  and  so  John  McLoughlin,  the 
Northwester,  became  a  chief  factor  of  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  Company,  and  was  sent  to  Oregon. 

In  that  Oregon  of  the  olden  time  McLoughlin 
had  an  empire.     Alaska  touched  it  on  the  north, 


74  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

and  California  on  the  south,  its  eastern  wall  was 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  its  western  boundary  the 
Pacific.  When  McLoughlin  reached  Astoria,  it 
was  in  sorry  decay.  A  recent  fire  had  carried  off 
most  of  Astor's  stronghold.  So,  up  the  Columbia, 
one  hundred  miles,  just  beyond  the  mouth  of  the 
Willamette,  on  a  beautiful  sloping  plain  facing 
Mount  Hood  and  the  blue  sweep  of  the  river,  a  new 
fort  was  built,  Vancouver. 

Fancy  can  picture  old  Fort  Vancouver  as  a 
mediaeval  castle  beside  the  blue  Columbia.  The 
moated  wall  was  the  lofty  palisade,  twenty  feet 
high,  with  great  chained  gates  and  padlocks. 

"  What,  warder,  ho!  let  the  portcullis  fall," 

rings  in  the  ear  as  we  think  of  that  guarded  gate, 
cautiously  opened  to  let  the  trader  in.  In  a  little 
room,  close  by  that  gate,  slept  old  Bruce,  the 
porter,  who  sometimes  was  roused  from  his  slum- 
bers at  midnight  by  a  signal  gun,  and  thumping 
on  the  portal.  It  might  be  some  belated  voyageur, 
but,  as  a  rule,  every  one  was  within  when  the 
gates  were  locked  at  sunset.  Within  the  great 
gate  there  was  a  small  one,  just  large  enough  to 
admit  one  person;  this  was  a  precaution  in  the 
case  of  Indians,  who  might  take  advantage  and 
crowd  in  and  seize  the  fort. 


THE    STORY    OF    McLOUGHLIN.  75 

The  donjons  were  log  bastions  at  the  corners, 
watch-towers  and  arsenals,  where  a  few  old  guns 
and  a  sentinel  guarded  the  forest  fortress. 

Within  this  strong  inclosure  extended  a  broad, 
green,  grassy  court,  where  the  Indians  came  to  do 
their  trading.  The  Governor's  residence  loomed 
grandly  beside  it,  the  house  of  Dr.  McLoughlin. 
There  are  people  living  yet  who  saw  it,  a  grim  old 
structure,  built  Canadian  fashion,  with  an  ample 
porch  in  front.  Tradition  says  it  was  weather- 
boarded  once  and  painted  white,  but  to  the  mem- 
ory of  the  oldest  immigrant  it  was  weather-stained 
and  gray. 

In  the  center  of  the  residence  was  a  spacious 
dining-hall,  a  sort  of  council-chamber,  where  all 
the  Pacific  fur-traders  met  for  annual  consulta- 
tion. Around  its  oaken  board  high  dignitaries 
sat  and  royal  banquets  were  spread  in  the  palmy 
days  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company.  McLoughlin 
was  always  at  the  head  of  the  table,  a  sort  of  mon- 
arch, a  survival  of  the  mediaeval  baron.  At  his 
right  sat  Douglas,  chief  aid,  afterward  Sir  James 
Douglas,  the  first  governor  of  British  Columbia, 
knighted  by  Queen  Victoria.  And  with  them,  in 
various  years,  were  Peter  SSkeen  Ogden,  afterward 
chief  factor;  Drs.  Barclay  and  Tolmie,  Hudson's 
Bay  physicians;  William  Glen  Rae,  the  Doctor's 


76  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

son-in-law;  Finlayson,  Allen,  John  Dunn,  Erma- 
tinger,  and  others  famous  in  Oregon  story. 

In  a  vast  kitchen  connected  with  the  residence, 
Basil,  the  baker,  held  sway,  who  sent  to  his 
master's  table  the  rarest  canvasback  ducks,  Chi- 
nook salmon,  and  daily  venison.  In  a  great  oven, 
built  of  fire-bricks  brought  from  England,  he 
baked  bread  for  the  brigades,  and  sea-biscuit  for 
ships  going  home  to  England  or  up  to  Sitka;  for 
McLoughlin  carried  out  Astor's  old  scheme  of 
trade  with  the  Russians  in  Alaska. 

Around  the  governor's  residence  clustered  quite 
a  village  of  storehouses  for  merchandise,  fur- 
rooms,  blacksmith-shops,  and  barrack-rooms  for 
the  employees.  One  of  these,  Bachelors'  Hall, 
was  the  scene  of  many  a  backwoods  carnival. 
Here  the  gentlemen  retired  to  smoke,  and  with 
trophies  of  the  chase  adorning  the  walls  these 
knights  of  primeval  time  discussed  the  day's  ad- 
venture. 

In  time,  other  cabins  grew  up  outside  the  stock- 
aded wall,  the  homes  of  voyageurs  and  their  half- 
breed  families,  close  under  the  guns  of  Fort  Van- 
couver. 

Then  from  this  central  emporium  went  the 
annual  brigades  north  to  Eraser  River,  south  to 
the  Spanish  land  of  California,  northeast  to  Fort 


THE    STORY    OF    McLOUGHLIN.  77 

Hall,  to  the  Yellowstone,  and  to  Great  Salt  Lake; 
some  followed  the  Cowlitz  to  Nisqually  and  the 
Sound.  And  when  these  returning  brigades  came 
home  with  the  fruits  of  a  season's  hunt,  how  the 
hospitable  old  portals  opened  to  receive  the  return- 
ing caravans!  For  days  their  advent  was  waited. 
With  glass  in  hand  Dr.  McLoughlin  would  sweep 
the  Columbia  for  the  first  glimpse  of  the  swinging 
boats.  Sometimes  an  Indian  would  come  to  the 
post  with  word  that  they  had  been  sighted  far  up. 
Forthwith  the  fort  put  on  its  gala  dress,  the  Brit- 
ish flag  fluttered  from  the  pole,  the  old  chimneys 
roared  with  bigger  fires  than  ever,  and  Basil  piled 
his  ovens  for  the  coming  banquet.  And  when 
the  long  line  of  bateaux  came  in  sight,  what  shrill 
music  broke  the  forest  silence  !  With  every  oar 
dipping  in  time  to  some  quaint  melody,  with 
every  voyageur  dressed  in  his  gayest  bonnet,  with 
the  chief  traders'  flag  flying,  down  they  slid  to 
Fort  Vancouver.  It  was  the  great  carnival  of  the 
year.  Rough,  weather-beaten  voyageurs  leaped 
to  greet  their  Indian  wives  and  kiss  their  Indian 
babies.  Many  a  treasure  from  the  far  Canadian 
land  was  pulled  from  pouch  and  pocket  for  these 
little  dark-eyed  cherubs  of  the  forest.  Night 
brought  the  great  banquet,  and  floors  ringing  to 
the  tread  of  dancers.     Over  all,  through  all,  and 


THE    STORY    OF    McLOUGHLIN.  79 

in  all  wailed  the  violin,  for  every  French-Cana- 
dian was  an  artist  with  the  bow.  Scarcely  could 
his  faithful  squaw  believe  him  home  until  she 
heard  the  violin. 

Then  came  the  day  of  departure,  with  new  out- 
fits, new  goods,  and  new  festivity.  The  bales  that 
brought  home  furs  went  out  with  beads  and 
blankets,  and  all  the  thousand  bright-hued  fabrics 
that  delight  the  savage.  Dashing  away  a  tear, 
Jean  and  Gabriel  and  Frangois  kissed  their  babes, 
and,  leaping  to  the  rowlocks,  struck  up  the  re- 
sounding song  of  old  Canada, — 

"  Fly  away,  my  heart,  away," 

and  with  fluttering  pennons  and  flashing  oars  the 
boat  brigade  went  gliding  out  of  sight. 

Some  of  the  Columbia  Indians  were  treacherous, 
robber  tribes  dogged  the  white  man,  fought,  and 
made  them  pay  tribute.  In  very  early  days,  when 
the  Northwesters  were  here,  some  traders  wore 
armor,  and  fur  brigades  passed  the  Cascades  and 
the  narrow  Dalles  with  a  lighted  match  above  a 
loaded  cannon.  They  even  demanded  tribute 
when  McLoughlin  came,  and  attacked  him  once, 
at  Fort  Vancouver,  with  whoops  and  yells  at  mid- 
night. McLoughlin  armed  his  men  and  called 
the  chieftains  in.     Striding  through  the  narrow 


80  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

gate,  no  doubt  the}'  expected  gifts  and  bribes  to 
buy  them  off.  McLoughlin  had  a  wiser  plan.  He 
summoned  old  Colin  Fraser  in  Highland  kilt  and 
plume  to  play  the  bagpipes.  Strutting  up  and 
down,  the  old  Scot  played  his  wildest.  So  charmed 
were  the  savages  that  they  forgot  their  warlike 
errand,  and  while  the  painted  warriors  surged 
outside  their  chiefs  within  signed  a  treaty,  drawn 
up  by  McLoughlin,  to  never  more  molest  Van- 
couver. 

McLoughlin  was  a  diplomat.  Very  well  he  knew 
the  effect  of  pomp  and  color  on  the  savage  heart: 
never  did  his  barge  float  on  the  stream  without  the 
insignia  of  power,  —  flags  and  pennants  and  royal 
music.  McLoughlin  had  a  daughter,  just  a  tinge 
of  Indian  in  her  cheek,  that,  clad  like  a  princess, 
rode  by  her  father's  side  when  the  gay  brigades 
of  autumn  wound  up  the  Willamette  on  their  way 
to  California.  Only  a  few  miles  he  accompanied 
those  horse  brigades  of  autumn,  but  all  the  Indian 
world  trooped  out  to  see  the  state  and  splendor  of 
the  White-headed  Chief,  who  ruled  so  grandly  at 
Vancouver.  And  on  the  waters  the  best  voy- 
ageurs  in  the  world  were  his,  the  fleetest  at  the 
oar,  and  the  shrillest  singers.  Oregon  was  vocal 
with  their  chansons  in  the  forest,  ringing  at  moon- 
light in  the  valley,  and  startling  daylight  up  the 
Columbia  in  the  shadow  of  Mount  Hood. 


THE    STORY    OF    McLOUGHLIN.  81 

No  Indian  dared  defy  the  magnate  at  Vancouver. 
His  arm  was  swift  and  terrible,  the  disobedient 
slunk  away  before  those  fiery  eyes  as  from  a 
wrathful  god.  McLoughlin  had  a  quick  and  pas- 
sionate temper,  perhaps  even  exaggerated  for  effect 
upon  his  savage  subjects.  A  consummate  actor, 
his  very  hair  seemed  to  spread  and  swell  like  a 
halo  in  his  fits  of  wrath.  A  cane  in  his  hand  was 
more  to  be  dreaded  than  a  gun  in  any  other.  But 
oh!  how  mild  and  sweet  and  fatherly  he  was  when 
pleased  and  calm.  The  Indians  consulted  him, 
brought  him  gifts;  the  first  salmon  of  the  season 
was  brought  to  Fort  Vancouver,  the  choicest  otter, 
the  blackest  beaver.  He  settled  all  their  difficul- 
ties, forbade  their  waging  war,  put  a  stop  to  many 
a  barbarous  practice,  and  sold  them  guns  until 
they  forgot  the  use  of  the  arrow.  Under  McLough- 
lin's  rule,  peace  reigned  in  Oregon. 

The  French  voyageurs  feared  and  loved  Mc- 
Loughlin, though  he  ruled  them  with  a  rod  of  iron. 
"  Eef  man  haf  more  nor  one  wife,  'e  old  Dogtor 
would  'ang  eem,"  said  the  old  voyageurs.  And 
very  good  wives  the  Indian  women  made  for  those 
happy-go-lucky  Frenchmen,  whose  chief  aim  in 
life  was  to  have  a  good  time.  But  all  their  song 
and  dance  and  levity  was  a  blessing  in  the  hard- 
ships   of   the   laborious    hunter's   life.     Sleeping 


82  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

night  after  night  in  damp  and  rain  and  cold,  cor- 
delling  canoes  along  rocky  paths,  leaping  cataracts 
and  sweeping  cascades,  —  the  jollier  they  were, 
the  less  they  realized  the  dangers  of  their  lives. 
A  venison  steak,  a  cup  of  tea,  an  hour  of  sleep, 
and  all  were  ready  again  for  another  day  as  bur- 
densome as  the  last. 

When  his  voyageurs  grew  old,  McLoughlin  did 
not  ship  them  home  to  Canada.  If  they  wished, 
he  let  them  settle  with  their  Indian  families  at 
Champoeg,  a  garden  spot  of  prairie  up  the  Wil- 
lamette, where,  in  their  little  cottages,  they  passed 
the  peaceful  evening  of  their  lives.  Sometimes 
McLoughlin  visited  old  Champoeg,  moving  like  a 
father  among  his  children.  Whatever  he  said, 
that  was  law  in  the  valley  Willamette.  They  did 
not  care  for  books,  those  ex-hunters  of  old  Cham- 
poeg ;  their  children  enlisted  again  with  the  fur- 
traders,  and  kept  up  family  traditions  of  brigade 
and  camp-fire. 

Now  and  then  a  Boston  ship  came  into  the 
Columbia  to  annoy  Dr.  McLoughlin.  For  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company  was  above  all  things  a 
monopoly.  No  notion  had  they  of  dividing  trade 
with  another.  How  McLoughlin  hated  the  Yankee 
skipper,  hated  his  enterprise,  hated  his  omnipres- 
ence !     How  little  theii  did  he  realize  that  before 


THE    STORY    OF    McLOUGHLIN. 


83 


the  century  closed  this  very  Yankee  enterprise 
would  take  Oregon,  take  California,  take  Alaska, 
take  the  Pacific. 

The  annual  ship  from  London  was  due  in  the 
river  in  March.  This  brought  merchandise  and 
carried  away  furs.  Even  earlier  than  this,  a  train 
of  barges  left  Vancouver  for  the  Northland,  bound 
for  Canada.  With  gay  fare- 
wells and  fluttering  plumes 
they  went  up  the  great 
river,  past  Hood  in  her 
snowy  mantle,  past  cas- 
cades, dalles,  and  falls, 
past  shoots  and  cataracts 
and  gems  of  islands,  past 
Walla  Walla  at  the  river's 
bend,  past  Okanogan,  on 
up  into  the  Flathead  country,  on  up  into  the  very 
head  stream  of  the  Columbia,  in  the  Rockies. 
Over  the  heights  they  went  on  snowshoes,  then 
by  portages  and  little  lakes  and  streams,  gained 
the  great  Saskatchewan,  a  river  longer  than  the 
Mississippi,  and  floating,  floating  eastward,  came 
to  Winnipeg,  where  Canadian  letters  and  supplies 
from  York  Factory  met  them  for  the  return  trip 
to  Fort  Vancouver. 

The  annual  ship  from  London  and  that  over- 


Once  a  Boston  ship,  the 
Thomas  H.  Perkins,  came  into 
the  Columbia  with  a  cargo  of 
whisky.  Dr.  McLoughlin  him- 
self went  directly  down  to  As- 
toria and  bought  lip  the  entire 
outfit  before  a  drop  could  get 
into  the  hands  of  the  Indians 
and  even  leased  the  ship,  to 
end  that  whisky  business.  "'An 
Indian  drunk  is  a  demon," 
he  said;  on  no  account  would 
McLoughlin  let  liquor  get 
among  them. 


84  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

land  brigade  from  Canada  were  the  two  links  of 
communication  with  the  outside  world.  News- 
papers a  year  and  two  years  old  were  brought  and 
stored  away  in  chests  at  Fort  Vancouver,  to  be 
brought  out  one  by  one  each  morning,  that  here 
in  the  lonely  forest  these  hermit  knights  of  trade 
might  read  the  Daily  London  Times.  There  was  a 
library  with  good  books  at  Fort  Vancouver,  and 
when  each  leather-bound  volume  had  been  well 
perused,  off  it  went  to  delight  some  other  fort, 
deeper,  more  secluded  in  the  northwest  forest. 
Some  of  the  forts  in  British  Columbia  were  reached 
on  snowshoes;  the  one  down  on  the  Umpqua  was 
hidden  in  almost  inaccessible  mountains.  But 
always  their  beaver  came  to  Port  Vancouver. 

But  the  quiet  days  of  beaver,  bear,  and  otter 
hunting  in  Oregon  were  not  to  last  forever.  Hunt- 
ers came  from  the  far-off  states,  missionaries  came, 
settlers  came  more  and  more,until  fields  and  gardens 
bloomed  where  the  hunter  lately  set  his  traps.  Of 
course,  the  Hudson's  Bay  men  did  not  like  it,  but 
when  a  needy  adventurer  actually  presented  him- 
self at  the  gates  of  Fort  Vancouver,  the  great- 
hearted Doctor  could  not  send  him  off.  He  em- 
ployed him  if  he  could,  or  he  loaned  him  food  and 
clothes,  and  seeds  to  start  a  farm.  Of  course  he 
lost  by  this  a  great  deal;  sixty  thousand  dollars 
was  the  reputed  record  when  McLoughlin  died. 


THE    STORY    OF    McLOUGHLIN.  85 

The  Indians  did  not  like  to  see  the  settlers  com- 
ing; they  feared  invasion  of  their  lands.  The 
first  large  immigration  came  in  1843.  As  the 
boats  neared  the  shore  at  Fort  Vancouver,  an  In- 
dian said,  "  Let  us  kill  these  Bostons."  McLough- 
lin  caught  the  word.  Grasping  his  cane,  he 
seized  the  miscreant  by  the  throat.  "Who  says 
that?  "  he  cried,  shaking  the  speaker  like  a  rat. 
"  I  do  not,"  said  the  Indian,  "  but  the  Dalles  In- 
dians say  so."  "Well,  sir,  the  Dalles  Indians  are 
dogs,  and  you  too,  if  you  talk  that  way."  The  In- 
dian slunk  away. 

In  his  anxiety  lest  harm  should  come  to  the 
people  in  the  boats,  McLoughlin  hastened  down 
to  the  water's  edge  and  took  them  by  the  hands, 
to  show  the  watching  Indians  that  they  were  his 
friends.  He  ordered  bonfires  built  to  dry  their 
clothes,  and  fed  many  at  his  table  in  the  fort.  On 
stormy  nights  the  beds  were  filled  with  tired 
women  and  little  children,  and  the  Hudson's  Bay 
clerks  grumbled  that  the  Doctor  turned  them  out 
of  their  warm  quarters  to  accommodate  "  these 
immigrants." 

Did  not  McLoughlin  know  the  coming  of  these 
settlers  meant  the  ruin  of  the  fur  trade?  Did  he 
not  know  this  loosing  of  the  floodgates  meant 
American    occupation?     He    must   have    known; 


86  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

but  so  long  had  he  lived  among  Indians  that  every 
white  man  was  his  brother,  and  as  such  was 
warmed  and  fed  and  helped  upon  his  way.  In 
McLoughlin's  eyes  a  white  woman  was  a  superior 
being,  and  little  children  of  the  whites  were  sacred. 
The  fur  company  blamed  him,  and  from  their  head- 
quarters in  London  demanded  an  explanation. 

"  My  lords,"  answered  McLoughlin,  "  how  could 
I  refuse  food  to  those  starving  immigrants?  My 
duty  to  humanity  was  superior  to  my  duty  even 
to  the  fur  company."  And  so  McLoughlin  lost 
his  place,  and  the  noble-hearted  philanthropist 
became  the  Father  of  Oregon  and  the  founder  of 
Oregon  City.  He  sleeps  now  in  the  Catholic 
churchyard  on  the  banks  of  the  shining  Willam- 
ette, where  every  boat  that  passes  may  see  the 
shadow  of  his  tomb.  Some  day  the  generous  heart 
of  Oregon  will  build  a  monument  to  McLoughlin, 
the  great  fur-trader  who  rescued  the  Americans 
and  fed  their  hungry  little  children. 

BLACKBOARD    STUDIES. 

flotilla  mediaeval  warder  feudal  portcullis 

palisade        voyageurs  brigades        bagpipes      eliansons 

pennants      cordelling  portage         moated         castellated 

Some  posts  in  the  north  had  moats  and  drawbridges. 


BONNEVILLE. 


HEN  Bonneville  came."  What 
a  legend  that  has  come  to  be! 
B.  L.  E.  Bonneville  was  a  United 
States  army  officer  who  wished  to 
emulate  the  deeds  of  Lewis  and 
Clark.  Obtaining  leave  of  ab- 
sence, he  was  fitted  out  by  mer- 
chants of  New  York,  in  1832,  for  a  trapping  and 
trading  expedition. 

That  same  year,  Nathaniel  J.  Wyeth  of  Cam- 
bridge fitted  up  his  wonderful  amphibious  wagon, 
a  boat  on  wheels,  that  was  to  cross  all  the  lands  and 
waters  to  Oregon.  The  Harvard  students  called 
it  "The  Natwyetheum." 

Bonneville  and  Wyeth  met  beyond  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  The  "Natwye- 
theum "  had  been  aban- 
doned far  back  as  imprac- 
ticable. But  Bonneville 
took  twenty  wagons,  loaded 
with  Indian  goods,  over 
the    Rockies,   and    cached 

87 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 

See     Irving's      ''Bonne- 
ville." 

First   wagons   cross  the 
Rocky  Mountains. 


BONNEVILLE.  89 

them  on  the  Green  River,  the  first  wagons  that 
ever  crossed  the  range.  Captain  Bonneville  was 
utterly  bald.  Whenever  he  pulled  off  his  cap,  the 
Indians  rose  up  to  gaze  with  exclamations  of  awe 
and  wonder  at  the  shining  white  pate  that  could 
not  be  scalped. 

After  many  adventures  among  the  Blue  Moun- 
tains, and  much  kindness  from  the  Nez  Perces, 
Captain  Bonneville  reached  Fort  Walla  Walla,  on 
the  Columbia  River.  Here  he  was  cordially  re- 
ceived by  Pierre  C.  Pambrun  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company. 

"  And  now,"  said  Bonneville  to  his  worthy  host, 
"  If  I  can  purchase  of  you  a  few  supplies  — 

The  hospitable  host  of  a  moment  before  became 
suddenly  cold  and  formal.  "  However  I  may  feel 
inclined  to  assist  you  personally,  Captain  Bonne- 
ville, I  feel  in  duty  bound  to  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company  to  do  nothing  to  encourage  other  traders 
in  this  part  of  the  country."  And  so  Bonneville 
left,  empty-handed. 

"I  will  get  supplies.  I  will  trade  with  these 
Indians,"  indignantly  vowed  the  Captain  Bonne- 
ville. 

He  did  come  back  with  supplies  from  Green 
River,  but  the  Indians,  once  so  friendly,  tied  at 
his  approach.     Not  a  horse,  not  a  dog,  not  a  skin, 


90  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

not  a  fish,  would  they  exchange  for  all  his  beauti- 
ful gifts.  They  had  been  warned  not  to  trade 
with  these  Americans. 

Bonneville  was  obliged  to  kill  some  of  his  horses 
for  food.  Absolutely  boycotted  out  of  the  coun- 
try, he  turned  again  toward  the  Rockies. 

"  But  I  ivill  return"  said  Bonneville. 

Captain  Wyeth  had  already  gone  down  the  Co- 
lumbia, but  somehow  his  salmon-fisheries  did  not 
prosper.  The  Indians  brought  him  rotten  fish. 
The  Hudson's  Bay  Company  hired  his  men  away. 
He  built  Fort  Hall,  on  the  Snake  River;  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  people  built  Fort  Boise  near  it,  and  paid 
the  Indians  more  for  their  furs;  so  in  a  short  time 
Wyeth  was  obliged  to  sell  his  establishment  to  the 
Hudson's  Bay  people  and  leave  the  country.  It 
was  always  that  way;  American  traders  found  it 
hard  to  compete  with  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company. 


STORY    OF   THE    MISSIONARIES. 


N  the  same  year  that  Bonneville 
crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
four  Flathead  Indians  entered 
the  city  of  St.  Louis  and  asked 
to  see  the  Red  Head  Chief  who, 
a  quarter  of  a  century  before, 
had  visited  their  fathers  in  the 
far  Northwest. 

General  Clark,  now  Indian  agent  for  all  the 
Western  country,  shook  his  silver  locks  with  roars 
of  laughter  at  this  reminder  of  his  youth.  Very 
well  he  remembered  his  Flathead  friends,  and 
with  the  winsomeness  that  had  won  all  the  tribes 
he  received  these  ambassadors  of  a  tribe  farther 
than  the  farthest  that  had 
ever  visited  St.  Louis. 

"We  have  been  sent  by 
our  people,"  said  the  In- 
dians, "  to  obtain  the  white 
man's  Book  of  Heaven." 

At  General  Clark's  or- 
der they  were  feasted  and 

91 


REFERENCE    TOPIC'S. 

Indians     send     for     the 
Bible,  183S. 

Jason  Lee  comes,  1834. 

White  women  cross  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  1 836. 

First  Anglo-Saxon  wed- 
ding, June,  1837. 


STORY    OF    THE    MISSIONARIES.  93 

shown  the  city.  They  visited  theaters  and 
churches,  saw  steamboats  and  tall  houses,  but  no- 
where did  they  find  the  Book  of  Heaven.  The 
two  old  men  died.  Wearied  and  disappointed, 
the  two  young  men  started  on  the  long  journey 
homeward. 

The  story  got  into  the  papers.  "  The  Indians 
of  the  far,  far  West  are  calling  for  the  Bible." 
The  churches  were  startled. 

"  Let  us  send  Jason  Lee,"  said   the  Methodists. 

"Let  us  go,"  said  Marcus  Whitman  and  Henry 
Spalding,  the  Presbyterians. 

"We  will  go,"  said  the  Catholic  fathers,  De 
Smet  and  Blanchet. 

In  1834,  Jason  Lee,  Daniel  Lee,  Cyrus  Shepherd, 
and  T.  L.  Edwards  came  with  Wyeth  to  Fort  Van- 
couver. "  Bless  me,  bless  me,"  said  Dr.  Mc- 
Loughlin  to  Jason  Lee.  "  Are  you  going  to  settle 
among  those  Flathead  Indians?  No,  no;  that  is 
too  far  away.  We  need  you  right  here  in  the 
Willamette  Valley.  We  have  Indians  of  our 
own."  So  Jason  Lee  went  up  the  Willamette  and 
built  his  log  mission  ten  miles  below  the  present 
city  of  Salem. 

In  1836,  Dr.  Whitman  and  Mr.  Spalding  came 
over  the  Rocky  Mountains  with  their  brides,  the 
first  white  women  that  ever  crossed  the  continent. 


JO    MEEK,    THE   TRAPPPR 
From  Mrs.  Victor's  "  River  of  the  West." 


STORY    OF    THE    MISSIONARIES.  95 

"They  are  white  squaws,  white  as  snow,"  was  the 
word  that  flew  into  the  Indian  country.  On  the 
summit  of  the  mountains  the  flag  was  unfurled, 
and  under  its  starry  folds  the  little  band  knelt, 
facing  the  west,  and,  like  Columbus,  took  posses- 
sion in  the  name  of  God.  As  they  came  down 
from  the  mountains,  Indians  —  Nez  Perces,  Flat- 
heads,  Snakes,  Bannocks  —  came  out  in  hundreds 
to  meet  them.  When  the  two  brides  alighted  at 
Green  River,  scores  of  Indian  women  pressed  to 
grasp  their  hands  and  kiss  their  cheeks. 

"Thar,"  said  Jo  Meek,  an  American  trapper  in 
the  mountains,  —  "  thar  are  immigrants  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  Company  cannot  drive  out." 

"These  teachers  have  come  to  bring  us  the 
Book  of  Heaven,"  said  the  Indians.  They  looked 
at  the  women,  and  they  looked  at  the  wagon 
that  rolled  creaking  along.  Wonderful  sight! 
They  poked  it  with  sticks,  and  examined  the 
wheels,  and  named    it  the  "  horse-canoe." 

"The  way  is  so  rough,  you  cannot  get  tne 
wagon  through,"  said  the  trappers.  But  the 
Indians  said,  "Go  on,"  and  put  their  shoulders  to 
the  wheels.  And  that  was  the  first  wagop>  ever 
brought  through  to  Oregon.  At  last  they  reached 
the  Columbia,  and  visited  Dr.  McLoughlin  at 
Fort  Vancouver.  That  story  you  will  find  in 
"McLoughlin  and  Old  Oregon." 


STORY    OF    THE    MISSIONARIES.  97 

Dr.  Whitman  settled  among  the  Walla  Walla 
Indians,  where  now  stands  the  beautiful  city  of 
Walla  Walla  and  Whitman  College,  in  the  state 
of  Washington.  It  was  all  a  flower-decked  prairie 
then,  with  Indian  wigwams  curling  up  their 
peaceful  camp-fires.  Mr.  Spalding  located  among 
the  Nez  Perces,  on  the  Clearwater  River,  near  the 
present  site  of  Lewiston,  Idaho.  Schools  were 
opened,  and  orchards  planted,  and  gardens.  The 
Indians  learned  to  cultivate  their  fields,  and  went 
to  school  to  read  along  with  their  little  children. 

Soon  after  the  arrival  of  the  Whitmans,  a  ship 
came  in  from  sea,  bringing  more  teachers  for  Ja- 
son Lee's  mission  on  the  Willamette.  Among 
them  was  a  beautiful  young  lady  who  became  the 
bride  of  Jason  Lee.  This  was  the  first  Anglo- 
Saxon  marriage  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  Some  time, 
when  you  are  in  Salem,  go  to  the  cemetery  and 
read  the  inscription  upon  her  tombstone:  — 


Beneath  this  Sod, 

The  First  Ever  Broken  in  Oregon 

for  THE 

Reception  of  a  White  Mother  and  Child, 

lie  the  remains  of 

Anna   Maria  Pitman, 

Wife  of  Rev.  Jason  Lee, 

and  Her  Infant  Son. 


98  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Jason  Lee  was  sent  back  to  the  States  in  1838, 
in  the  interests  of  his  mission,  and  while  he  was 
gone  she  died.  In  1840,  Jason  Lee  came  back 
with  a  mission  colony  of  fifty-seven  men,  women, 
and  children,  —  the  first  large  accession  of  Ameri- 
can immigrants  to  Oregon.  The  mission  was 
removed  to  a  healthier  location,  and  out  of  it  grew 
the  present  capital  city  of  Oregon,  and  Willamette 
University.  Builders  of  cities  and  carvers  of 
states  were  those  old  heroes  of  sixty  years  ago. 

In  1838-39,  Blanchet  came  from  Canada  and 
De  Smet  came  from  St.  Louis  and  set  up  the  first 
Catholic  missions.  De  Smet  located  among  the 
Flatheads,  in  what  is  now  a  part  of  Montana,  so 
at  last  the  anxious  Flatheads  had  their  prayer 
granted  for  a  teacher  of  the  Book  of  Heaven. 

In  1842,  one  hundred  and  nine  people  on  horse- 
back arrived  at  Whitman's  mission,  dusty,  sun- 
burned, ragged,  weary. 

"Where  are  your  wagons?"  was  Dr.  Whitman's 
first  inquiry. 

"  We  broke  them  up  at  Green  River,  to  make 
pack-saddles,"  answered  the  immigrants.  "They 
told  us  a  wagon  could  never  cross  the  Blue  Moun- 
tains." 

"All  a  mistake,  all  a  mistake,"  cried  the  vehe- 
ment Doctor.    "  Yonder  is  my  wagon,  brought  over 


STORY    OF    THE    MISSIONARIES.  99 

the  Blue  Mountains.  Look  at  your  women,  tired 
to  death  on  those  hard-riding  horses.  Oregon 
never  will  be  settled  until  we  can  bring  wagons." 

Then  and  there,  while  doing  everything  he 
could  for  the  weary  people,  Dr.  Whitman  resolved 
to  go  back  and  lead  a  wagon  train  to  Oregon. 

It  is  a  long  story.  He  went  back  for  many 
things,  on  that  wonderful  winter  ride  that  has 
been  told  in  song  and  story.  A  brave  young  law- 
yer, Asa  Lovejoy,  went  back  with  him  as  far  as 
Bent's  Fort,  on  the  Arkansas  River.  Then  Whit- 
man pressed  on  alone  to  Washington  and  to  Bos- 
ton. Meantime  the  people  were  gathering  on  the 
border.  Already  the  long  train  of  wagons  was 
far  out  on  the  river  Platte  when  Whitman  joined 
them  in  that  memorable  May  of  1843. 


THE   WOLF    MEETINGS. 


ROUND  the  pack-trails  of  Mount 
Hood  the  immigrants  of  1842 
came  into  the  Willamette  Valley, 
and  paused  at  the  Falls,  the  fu- 
ture Oregon  City.  "What  sites 
for  mills  and  factories!  "  was  the 
involuntary  exclamation.  "  Here 
we  ought  to  take  our  claims;  this  will  be  the 
future  metropolis." 

"  This  town  site  is  claimed  by  Dr.  McLoughlin 
of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,"  answered  the 
members  of  the  Methodist  mission,  who  had  re- 
ceived them  hospitably  in  their  homes.  "He 
lives  at  Fort  Vancouver,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Columbia." 

"Away  off  there?  And 
a  Briton  ?  How  can  he 
hold  land  here?" 

"Joint  Occupation,  don't 
you  remember  ?  When 
Great  Britain  gave  Fort 
Astoria  back  to  us  in  1818, 

100 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 

Indians  and  wolves. 

Shall  the  Pacific  Coast 
form  an  independent 
government  i 

Battle  for  supremacy. 

America  wins. 

First  legislature. 


THE    WOLF    MEETINGS.  101 

it  was  agreed  that  both  countries  should  jointly 
occupy  the  Oregon  country  for  ten  years,  and 
when  that  ten  years  was  up  the  time  was  extended 
indefinitely.  Now  whoever  settles  the  country 
first,  theirs  will  it  be." 

Captain  Couch,  the  father  of  Oregon  commerce, 
had  lately  left  the  Willamette  with  the  Boston 
brig  Chenamus.  The  Captain  had  established  a 
store  at  the  Falls,  —  a  corner  grocery,  that  "demo- 
cratic palladium  of  American  liberty."  Here,  as 
ever  with  corner  groceries,  eager  Americans  met 
to  discuss  the  political  situation.  Scarcely  a 
month  had  passed  before  disquieting  news  came 
down  from  those  Indians  at  the  Whitman  mis- 
sion. 

"They  are  not  angry  at  the  King  George  men, 
nor  at  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  but  at  the 
Bostons  that  come  to  take  their  land,"  was  the 
word  brought  down  from  the  upper  country. 

"Some  one  has  excited  those  Indians,"  said  Dr. 
McLoughlin. 

"Yes;  renegade  half-breeds  have  told  them 
that  Dr.  Whitman  has  gone  after  more  white 
people,  who  will  come  and  take  the  country," 
said  another. 

Accident  increased  the  alarm.  The  careless 
Cayuses,  fishing  in    the  Walla    Walla,  permitted 


102  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

their  camp-fires  to  spread  to  the  mission  granary. 
Conflagration  followed;  the  mill  and  fifteen  hun- 
dred dollars'  worth  of  hard-earned  property  went 
up  in  smoke. 

"Mrs.  Whitman  has  fled  to  the  Dalles.  The 
Indians  are  coming  down  to  the  valley  to  cut 
off  all  the  Bostons,"  was  the  next  report.  A 
panic  ensued.  Some  men  of  the  mission,  and  Tom 
McKay  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  went  up 
there  to  quiet  the  excited  tribes.  No  one  felt 
safe;  in  the  face  of  danger  the  settlers  drew  near 
to  one  another.  Daily  caucuses  met  at  the  corner 
grocery. 

With  the  American  instinct  for  self-govern- 
ment, "We  must  organize,"  they  said. 

"We  cannot;  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  will 
oppose." 

"Who  shall  rule  in  Oregon?  Shall  it  be  Eng- 
land? or  shall  it  be  America?  Let  us  have  a 
Pacific  empire,"  said  some. 

The  long,  dark  evenings  were  enlivened  by  a 
debating  society  among  the  lonely  cabins  in  the 
rainy  woods.  Dr.  McLoughlin  was  interested. 
He  sent  a  question  from  Fort  Vancouver.  "  Re- 
solved, that  it  is  expedient  for  the  settlers  of  the 
Pacific  Coast  to  form  an  independent  govern- 
ment." 


THE    WOLF    MEETINGS.  103 

The  question  was  warmly  discussed;  a  Pacific 
empire  looked  feasible,  but  George  Aberneth/  of 
the  mission  vehemently  opposed  it.  Despite  his 
effort,  the  resolution  carried  by  a  great  majority. 

"We  are  drifting  from  the  Union,"  said  Aber- 
nethy.  Leaping  to  his  feet  before  anybody  else 
had  a  chance,  he  offered  for  the  next  debate,  "  Re- 
solved, that  if  the  United  States  extends  its  juris- 
diction over  this  country  within  the  next  four 
years,  it  will  not  be  expedient  to  form  an  inde- 
pendent government." 

The  night  came.  The  house  was  packed. 
Anxious  men  were  there  with  their  wives  and 
children,  listening,  in  the  nickering  flare  of  the 
tallow-dip  and  the  chimney-fire,  to  what  might 
be  their  fate.  American  feeling  came  uppermost, 
patriotism  stirred.  Abernethy's  loyal  resolution 
carried  all  before  it.  A  wild  hm-rah  arose  that 
rang  beyond  the  cabin  door.  Secession  died  in 
Oregon  that  night.  Unconsciously  to  himself, 
George  Abernethy  had  won  a  place  in  the  hearts 
of  his  assembled  countrymen  that  was  not  to  be 
forgotten. 

An  uneasy  reaching  out  for  safety  stirred 
through  all  the  valley.  Rumors  of  conspiracies 
among  the  Molallas,  the  Callapooias,  and  the 
Klickitats     were     circulated.     Guns     were     kept 


104  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

loaded,  doors  were  barricaded.  Now  and  then 
the  scowl  of  a  painted  savage  chilled  the  heart. 

Jason  Lee  had  been  instrumental  in  organizing 
a  cattle  company,  that  had  bought  eight  hundred 
head  of  cattle  at  three  dollars  a  head  of  the 
Spaniards  in  California,  and  with  infinite  trouble 
they  had  been  driven  up  the  rough  and  rugged 
trails  to  Oregon.  Some  were  lost  in  swimming 
rivers,  some  strayed,  some  were  killed  by  Shasta 
Indians,  but  six  hundred  reached  Oregon  alive. 
Now  nearly  every  settler  had  his  little  herd. 

Wolves,  wolves,  wolves,  how  they  came  down 
from  the  mountains  and  carried  off  the  mission 
herds!  Wolves  and  bears  and  panthers  kept  up 
continual  depredation.  The  French-Canadians, 
even  the  Hudson's  Bay  people  with  all  their 
watchfulness,  suffered  from  these  destructive  mid- 
night prowlers.  Of  late,  so  bold  had  the  beasts  of 
prey  become,  that  even  in  the  daytime  they  stole 
into  the  farmer's  yard  and  carried  off  his  pigs 
and  chickens. 

About  the  time  the  heroic  Whitman  was  enter- 
ing Washington,  at  the  end  of  that  desperate 
winter  ride,  the  settlers  on  this  far-off  Oregon 
stage  were  enacting  a  most  significant  drama.  In 
that  drama  were  men  who  had  first  crossed  the 
continent  with  Lewis  and  Clark,  men  who  came 


THE    WOLF    MEETINGS.  105 

with  Astor's  people,  remnants  of  Wyeth's  expedi- 
tion, trappers  of  the  American  Fur  Company, 
adventurers  that  had  drifted  down  from  the 
mountains  and  up  from  the  seas,  Hudson's  Bay 
French-Canadians,  and  missionaries,  all  vowing ' 
vengeance  on  the  wolves.  They  met  at  old 
Champoeg,  at  the  cabin  of  Joseph  Gervais,  one  of 
Astor's  Canadians,  who  now  for  thirty  years  had 
trapped  in  Oregon.  O'Neill,  of  Wyeth's  crowd, 
presided.  Le  Breton,  who  came  with  Captain 
Couch  in  the  brig  Maryland,  was  secretary. 

"Hurry  over  the  wolf  business,"  an  American 
whispered  to  O'Neill;  "we  have  other  work  in 
hand."  In  short  order,  wolves,  bears,  and  pan- 
thers met  their  death  sentences,  and  bounties 
were  voted  to  every  one  that  brought  a  scalp. 

"  No  one  will  question  for  a  moment  that  this 
is  right,"  rang  out  the  voice  of  William  Gray, 
who  came  with  Whitman's  party  in  1836.  "This 
is  a  just  and  natural  protection  for  our  property. 
How  is  it,  fellow-citizens,  with  you  and  me,  and 
our  wives  and  children?  Is  there  any  power  to 
protect  us  and  all  we  hold  dear  on  earth?  We 
agree  to  defend  our  animals.  Now,  fellow-citi- 
zens, I  move  that  we  may  have  protection  for  our 
persons  and  lives  as  well  as  for  our  cattle  and 
herds. 


106  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

"Resolved,  that  a  committee  be  appointed  to 
take  measures  for  the  civil  and  military  protec- 
tion of  this  colony. 

"Resolved,  that  said  committee  shall  consist  of 
twelve  persons." 

Without  a  dissent  the  resolution  went  through, 
and  the  immortal  twelve  were  appointed  that  set 
rolling  the  cog-wheels  of  Oregon  state  machinery. 

Even  in  this  primeval  wild,  the  news  that  the 
Americans  were  going  to  organize  flew  on  the 
wings  of  the  wind. 

"Has  not  Canadian  law  been  extended  here 
by  act  of  Parliament,"  said  some  old  voyageurs. 
"That  is  good  enough  for  us.  Why  are  these 
Yankees  always  trying  to  turn  the  world  upside 
down?" 

Some  opponents  to  the  Americans  prepared  to 
combat  the  movement.  A  series  of  seventeen 
objections  was  drawn  up  in  English  interests. 
Many  a  faithful  vassal  of  the  reigning  fur  com- 
pany agreed  to  be  on  hand  and  vote  "no"  on  any 
measure  that  was  presented. 

"We  want  men,  women,  children,  and  domes- 
tic animals  to  hold  this  country,  instead  of  bears 
and  wolves  and  panthers,"  said  one  gruff  old 
mountaineer.  "  Americans  raise  wheat  and  plant 
schools.     Fur  companies  raise  beaver." 


THE    WOLF    MEETINGS.  107 

The  crucial  day  arrived.  The  settlers  assem- 
bled in  an  open  field  at  old  Champoeg,  the  very 
citadel  and  center  of  opposition,  so  eager  were 
the  Americans  to  enlist  the  sympathy  and  co- 
operation of  the  Canadians. 

Motions  were  put.  "No,  no,  no,"  steadily  voted 
the  opposition.  Le  Breton's  quick  eye  took  in 
the  numbers. 

"We  can  risk  it.  Let  us  divide  and  count,"  he 
said. 

Quick  as  tongue  could  speak,  "Second  the 
motion,"  cried  William  Gray. 

"  Who  is  for  a  divide?  "  rang  the  stentorian  note 
of  Jo  Meek,  the  mountain-man.  "All  for  the  re- 
port of  the  committee  and  organization,  follow  me." 

Every  American  stepped  out  behind  the  stanch 
Virginian.  A  few  Canadians  swayed,  hesitated, 
then  followed  the  American  side.  Fifty-two 
against  fifty  lined  up  for  the  Stars  and  Stripes. 

"Three  cheers  for  our  side!"  cried  Jo  Meek, 
and  with  a  will  over  French  Prairie  rolled  one 
long,  loud  shout  for  America. 

No  bells  were  rung, 

No  paeans  sung, 

No  banners  flung, 

No  booming  cannon  pealed, — 

but  Oregon  was  ours. 


108  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

The  opposition,  disconcerted,  withdrew  into  the 
fence  corners,  watched  proceedings  for  a  while, 
then,  mounting  their  Indian  ponies,  cantered 
slowly  homeward,  ruminating  on  the  perform- 
ances of  these  self-guided  Americans. 

"And    as    solemn    about   it,   too,    as    if  'twere 

Judgment  Day,"  said  one  who  returned  to  Fort 

Vancouver. 

No  bullets  sped, 

No  blood  was  shed, 

No  fallen  dead 

Marked  that  fair  battle-field. 

The  committee  of  twelve  reported  for  organi- 
zation and  a  provisional  legislature.  Eight  days 
later,  the  legislature  elected  on  Champoeg  sod 
that  day  held  its  first  meeting  at  Oregon  City. 

The  Methodist  mission  at  the  Falls  fitted  up  its 
old  granary  for  their  accommodation.  Summoned 
by  the  howl  of  bears  and  wolves  and  panthers, 
and  the  fiercer  howl  of  Indians,  they  came. 

Here,  in  the  granary-capitol,  beside  the  sound- 
ing Falls,  beneath  the  whispering  firs,  on  the 
shores  of  the  Farther  Ocean,  gravely  as  of  old 
the  Continental  Congress,  Oregon's  first  legisla- 
ture reared  anew  the  institutions  of  their  sires. 

The  preamble  of  that  pioneer  constitution  de- 
clared. "  That  we,  the  people  of  Oregon  territory, 


THE    WOLF    MEETINGS.  109 

for  the  purposes  of  mutual  protection,  and  to 
secure  peace  and  prosperity  among  ourselves, 
agree  to  adopt  the  following  laws  and  regulations, 
until  such  time  as  the  United  States  of  America 
shall  extend  their  jurisdiction  over  us." 

On  July  5,  1843,  the  precious  document  was 
presented  to  the  people  for  ratification. 

On  July  4th  they  began  to  gather  at  old  Cham- 
poeg.  By  boat  they  came,  on  foot  and  horseback, 
from  Oregon  City  and  upper  Willamette,  and 
from  far-off  Clatsop  plains.  Almost  all  the  male 
population  of  Oregon  came  and  camped  upon  the 
ground  to  vote  upon  the  charter  of  their  liberties. 
The  Frenchmen  came,  too,  so  that  on  July  5th 
the  largest  assembly  of  white  men  that  had  ever 
gathered  in  Oregon  was  called  to  order.  It  was  a 
New  England  meeting  transferred  to  Pacific 
shores. 

A  lively  discussion  followed  the  reading  of  the 
legislative  report.  "A  governor  or  no  governor," 
was  the  hitch  in  proceedings.  Again  Gray  came 
to  the  rescue  with  a  ringing  speech  for  no  gov- 
ernor. A  vote  was  taken  and  the  constitution 
adopted.  Many  of  the  more  independent  French 
settlers  joined  in  the  deliberations  on  this  day, 
and  voted  for  ratification. 

All  classes  contributed    to  the   expense  of  the 


flllF 


ill- 


JlV 


THE    WOLF    MEETINGS.  Ill 

new  government.  And  thus,  without  a  gover- 
nor, without  a  treasury,  and  with  but  one  law 
book,  —  a  copy  of  the  Iowa  Code  that  some  one  had 
chanced  to  bring  across  the  Plains,  —  the  first 
American  state  slept  in  its  cradle  on  the  Pacific. 

In  a  short  time  even  the  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 
pany became  reconciled  to  the  new  order,  and 
some  of  its  members  occupied  seats  in  the  Oregon 
legislature.  Officers  recommended  by  the  com- 
mittee were  all  elected,  among  them  the  trapper, 
Jo  Meek,  for  sheriff.  And  yet,  all  told,  there  were 
not  two  hundred  Americans  west  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains. 

In  place  of  a  governor,  an  executive  committee 
of  three  was  elected  to  veto  bills  and  execute  laws. 
But  they  soon  tired  of  this,  and  three  years  later 
George  Abernethy,  who  had  stood  so  loyally  for 
the  Union,  was  elected  Oregon's  first  governor. 

Oregon's  first  State  House,  the  old  granary- 
capitol  at  Oregon  City,  had  a  roof  of  cedar  bark 
and  sides  of  split  timber,  suitable  for  fence  rails. 
Upon  the  puncheon  platform  sat  the  president. 
Legislators  occupied  seats  of  slab,  bark  side  down, 
around  the  room.  The  secretary  kept  his  records 
on  a  bench  of  rough,  uncovered  plank.  Here, 
one  day,  a  law  against  dueling  was  passed  in 
haste,  to  keep  two  angry  immigrants  from  blow- 


112  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

ing  each  other's  brains  out.  Laws  were  passed 
against  slavery.  Some  had  left  the  South  to  get 
away  from  slavery.  Prohibition  was  the  law  of 
the  land,  for  with  whisky  in  the  country,  no 
man's  house  was  safe  against  Indian  massacre. 

By  the  time  Whitman  came  with  the  immigra- 
tion of  1843  —  one  thousand  men,  women,  and 
children,  one  hundred  and  twenty  wagons,  and 
five  thousand  head  of  cattle  —  everything  was  or- 
ganized and  ready.  That  turned  the  tide  over- 
whelmingly in  favor  of  the  United  States. 

As  the  old  thirteen  colonies  exterminated  bears 
and  wolves  and  panthers  under  bounty  to  build 
up  Boston,  Providence,  and  Pittsburg,  so  now  the 
first  Pacific  colony  was  preparing  the  way  for  the 
then  unnamed.  Salem,  Corvallis,  Eugene,  and 
Portland. 


BLACKBOARD    STUDIES. 

Champoeg  (cham-po'eg).     From  Callapooia  word  champooick, 

wild  celery. 
Chenamus  (che-na'inus).     Named  for  the  chief,  son  of  old 

Comcomly. 
Salem  (sa'lem).    Located  on  site  of  old  Indian  Che-mek-e-te. 


THE   WINNING    OF   THE   WEST. 


"  The  gull  shall  whistle  in  his  wake,  the  blind  wave  break  in  fire, 
He  shall  fulfill  God's  utmost  will,  unknowing  his  desire; 
And  he  shall  see  old  planets  pass  and  alien  stars  arise, 
And  give  the  gale  his  reckless  sail  in  shadow  of  new  skies. 
Strong  lust  of  gear  shall  drive  him  out  and  hunger  arm  his  hand. 
To  wring  his  food  from  a  desert  nude,  his  foothold  from  the  sand. 
His  neighbor's  smoke  shall  vex  his  eyes,  their  voices  break  his  rest; 
He  shall  go  forth  till  south  is  north,  sullen  and  dispossessed ; 
He  shall  desire  loneliness,  and  his  desire  shall  bring 
Hard  on  his  heels  a  thousand  wheels,  a  people,  and  a  king. 
He  shall  come  back  on  his  own  track,  and  by  his  scarce  cool  camp 
There  shall  he  meet  the  roaring  street,  the  derrick,  and  the  stamp; 
For  he  must  blaze  a  nation's  ways,  with  hatchet  and  with  brand, 
Till  on  his  last-won  wilderness  an  empire's  bulwarks  stand." 

—  Rudyard  Kipling. 

OTHING  in  American  history, 
excepting,  perhaps,  crossing  the 
Atlantic,  equals  the  crossing  of  the 
plains.  Three  thousand  miles  by 
sea  came  the  Pilgrims  to  Plym- 
outh Rock.  Two  thousand  miles 
by  land 
came  the  pioneers  to  Ore- 
gon. 

The  year  1843  brought 
a  thousand  people  into 
Oregon.  Before  their  let- 
ters had  gone  back,  1844 

113 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 

England  alarmed. 
"Fifty-four    Iforty,       or 

fight." 
The    boundary    settled, 

June  15,  1846. 
The  Mexican  War. 
California  won. 


THE    WINNING    OF    THE    WEST.  115 

was  on  its  way.  Books  cannot  hold  the  story.  It  is 
one  of  the  world's  great  movements,  —  the  trans- 
portation of  a  people. 

Little  did  those  immigrants  of  1844  realize  the 
journey  before  them.  Gayly,  as  on  a  summer's 
holiday,  they  started  with  insufficient  outfits.  But 
Heaven  took  care  of  that.  The  year  1844  was  a 
rainy  year,  and  drenched,  and  drenched,  and 
drenched  were  they.  Clothes  wore  out,  babes 
were  born,  and  people  died. 

Along  the  Platte,  on  the  hunting-grounds  of 
the  old  Pawnee  Loupes,  they  chased  the  buffalo. 
The  hunters  shot  them  down  by  hundreds,  to 
divide  among  the  families.  Through  ignorance, 
thousands  of  pounds  of  meat  spoiled  before  they 
learned  the  proper  method  of  preservation.  For 
five  hundred  miles  they  lived  on  buffalo;  seldom 
were  the  ranging  herds  beyond  their  sight. 
Swift-footed  antelopes  crossed  their  track,  some- 
times wild  turkeys  and  mild-eyed  deer,  and  by 
and  by  the  mountain  sheep. 

Almost  before  they  knew  it,  they  had  climbed 
the  gentle  slope  of  the  Rockies  and  were  descend- 
ing the  western  side.  They  camped  in  beautiful 
groves  on  Green  River,  in  the  present  AVyoming, 
where  the  lush,  green  grass  was  an  endless 
meadow.     In  their  enthusiasm  they  even  thought 

L 


116  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

the  Western  waters  tasted  better  than  those  on  the 
other  side.  Even  from  the  Snake  they  looked 
forward  to  Oregon  City.  To  those  earlier  trains 
the  Indians  were  kind.  They  came  among  them 
well  dressed,  and  sometimes  bearing  banners. 

Plump  up  at  Fort  Hall  came  the  army  of  1844. 
"  Can  we  take  our  wagons  to  the  Columbia 
River?" 

"Do  not  ask  me  to  answer  that  question," 
growled  Captain  Grant,  in  great  irritation.  "  Last 
year  men  came  here,  just  as  you  do  now,  and 
asked  the  same  question.  I  told  them  they  could 
not  go  with  their  wagons.  We  found  it  very 
difficult  to  pass  with  pack-ponies.  They  went  on, 
however,  just  as  though  I  had  not  spoken.  The 
next  I  heard  of  them  they  had  reached  Walla 
Walla  and  the  Dalles.  You  Yankees  can  go  any- 
where you  want  to." 

And  on  they  went.  Whitman's  Indians  built 
their  bonfires  on  the  hills  to  guide  them  in.  With 
almost  superhuman  effort,  Dr.  Whitman  had 
raised  a  great  crop,  and  could  supply  the  passing 
trains. 

Amazed  as  he  was  at  this  incoming  tide,  Dr. 
McLoughlin  could  not  refuse  help  to  this  tattered 
but  heroic  army.  James  Douglas  of  Fort  Van- 
couver    was     afterwards     knighted     by     Queen 


THE    WINNING    OF    THE    WEST.  117 

Victoria,  "  but,"  says  an  immigrant  of  1844,  "John 
McLoughlin  held  the  patent  for  his  honors 
immediately  from  Almighty  God." 

Just  in  time  to  meet  the  immigrants  of  1844., 
Captain  Couch  with  his  Boston  brig  was  in  the 
river.  He  foresaw  the  future.  By  the  next  year 
he  had  laid  the  foundation  of  the  town  site  of 
Portland  on  the  banks  of  the  Willamette,  at 
the  head  of  ship-navigation.  Two  others  joined 
him,  —  F.  W.  Pettygrove  of  Portland,  Maine,  who 
had  come  with  a  sailing-ship  of  goods  around  the 
Horn,  and  Asa  L.  Lovejoy  of  Boston,  who  made 
that  winter  trip  with  Whitman. 

"What  shall  we  call  our  new  town?"  said  they. 

"Portland,"  said  Pettygrove. 

"Boston,"  said  Lovejoy.  And  then  and  there 
they  nipped  a  penny,  and  "  Portland  "  won. 

That  same  year  the  Methodists  dedicated  the 
first  Protestant  church  west  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, at  Oregon  City.  Somebody  was  even  then 
in  Washington  working  for  a  steamboat  route 
across  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  to  shorten  the  route 
to  Oregon. 

The  year  1845  brought  three  thousand  people 
with  "  Fifty-four  forty,  or  fight,"  blazoned  on  their 
wagon  covers.  "  Yes,"  they  said,  "  Polk  is  elected; 
and  we  will  fight  for  Oregon." 


118  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

The  brother  of  the  Earl  of  Aberdeen  was  in 
Puget  Sound  with  a  British  fleet  awaiting  events. 
Sir  Robert  Peel,  Prime  Minister  of  England,  sent 
his  son,  William  Peel,  and  Captain  Parke  of  the 
Royal  Marines,  to  investigate  the  Oregon  problem. 
They  saw  the  incoming  caravans.  "  Hopelessly 
Americanized,  hopelessly  Americanized,"  was  their 
frequent  exclamation. 

Parke  and  Peel  rode  up  the  Willamette  Valley, 
and  were  entertained  by  the  settlers.  "Tell  us 
how  you  came  to  Oregon,"  they  asked  at  the 
house  of  Applegate.  He  gave  them  the  story  of 
1843. 

"  Such  men  would  make  the  finest  soldiers  in 
the  world,"  said  Peel. 

They  stopped  at  Nesmith's.  He  staked  their 
horses  on  the  grass,  and  invited  them  into  his 
cabin,  fourteen  feet  square,  with  puncheon  floor, 
mud  chimney,  and  not  a  pane  of  glass.  The 
furniture  had  been  made  by  the  future  Senator 
himself  with  an  ax  and  auger.  Boiled  wheat  and 
jerked  beef  was  the  extent  of  the  larder.  The 
scions  of  nobility  slept  in  their  own  blankets  on 
the  cabin  floor. 

Twenty-five  years  after,  Senator  Nesmith  met 
one  of  those  officers  in  Washington.  "Do  you 
recall  that  I  was  once  your  guest  in  Oregon?"  he 
said. 


THE    WINNING    OF    THE    WEST.  119 

Nesmith  attempted  an  apology  for  the  brevity 
of  their  bill  of  fare  at  that  time. 

"My  dear  sir,"  interrupted  the  polite  English- 
man, "the  fare  was  splendid,  and  we  enjoyed  it 
hugely.  You  gave  us  the  best  you  had;  the 
Prince  of  Wales  could  do  no  more." 

From  Nesmith's  house  Lieutenant  Peel  returned 
to  Puget  Sound  and  took  a  special  ship  to 
London.  What  he  told  his  father,  the  great  Sir 
Robert,  we  do  not  know,  but  we  had  no  war  with 
England. 

Captain  Barlow  was  the  first  of  the  train  of 
1845  to  reach  the  Dalles,  that  stopping-place  for 
wheels. 

"Let  us  cut  a  road  through  the  timber,"  said 
the  undaunted  Captain. 

"  Impossible,"  said  the  settlers  at  the  Dalles 
mission.  "  You  must  make  rafts,  or  wait  for  the 
Hudson's  Bay  boats." 

"  Let  the  rest  go  down  by  boat.  We  will  hunt 
a  road,"  said  persevering  Barlow.  And  he  and 
W.  H.  Rector  started  into  the  forest.  Over  fallen 
giant  trees  they  climbed,  over  precipices,  ravines, 
and  streams.  Days  passed,  snow  fell,  food  gave 
out.  They  were  lost  in  the  wintry  foothills  of 
Mount  Hood.  Captain  Barlow,  who  was  an 
elderly  man,  fell  exhausted.      The  younger  man 


120  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

helped  him  on.  Hope  was  almost  gone,  when  lo! 
they  heard  the  tinkle  of  a  cow-bell.  It  was  their 
own  herdsmen  leading  cattle  along  an  Indian 
trail  over  the  mountain. 

The  next  year,  the  plucky  Mr.  Barlow  went 
back  and  opened  the  famous  Barlow  road  around 
Mount  Hood,  enabling  settlers  to  bring  their 
wagons  and  effects  directly  into  the  Willamette 
Valley.  Says  Judge  Deady,  "The  opening  of 
railways  since  has  been  of  less  importance  than 
the  opening  of  that  road." 

With  1845  came,  too,  William  B.  Ide,  who  led 
a  company  off  to  California,  where,  next  year,  he 
raised  the  world-famed  Bear  Flag  at  Sonoma. 

In  1846  two  thousand  more  people  came  into 
Oregon.  Part  of  them  turned  off  by  a  new  route 
to  enter  southern  Oregon,  and  suffered  incredible 
hardships.  In  rough  mountains,  amid  hostile 
savages  and  swollen  streams,  most  of  them  lost 
everything  they  possessed,  and  barely  escaped  to 
the  settlements  with  their  lives.  For  years  the 
Umpqua  Canon  was  strewn  with  wrecks  of  wagons 
and  crockery. 

The  Spectator,  the  first  newspaper  on  the  Pacific 
Coast,  had  been  started  in  February,  at  Oregon 
City.  In  November  came  the  joyful  word,  "The 
boundary  is  settled,  and  Oregon  is  ours."     Every 


THE    WINNING    OF    THE    WEST.  121 

fir  of  the  green  hills  shook  with  the  anvils  of  that 
colony  by  the  sea.  But  when  the  settlers  learned 
it  was  on  the  49th  parallel,  a  great  cry  rose,  "A 
third  of  Oregon  gone?  We  have  been  betrayed. 
Oregon  reached  Alaska." 

Unknown  to  Oregon  then,  the  Mexican  War 
was  on,  Fremont  was  in  California,  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  were  up  at  San  Francisco.  Amer- 
ica had  opened  wide  her  western  window  to  the 
sea. 

The  year  1847  was  a  record-breaker.  The 
Indians  on  the  plains  began  to  be  frightened  at 
the  never-ending  tide.  Between  May  and 
November,  five  thousand  people,  with  their  flocks 
and  herds,  marched  from  Missouri  to  the  sea. 
They  crossed  the  Platte  by  fords,  by  wagon-beds 
lashed  together,  and  on  rafts,  darkening  the 
stream  for  days.  Before  their  hunters,  innume- 
rable herds  of  buffalo  made  the  earth  tremble 
where  Grand  Island,  Lincoln,  and  Hastings, 
Nebraska  cities,  are  to-day.  They  came  from 
everywhere,  and  brought  everything.  Many  of 
them  were  born  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  had  seen 
the  opening  of  the  Erie  Canal,  had  followed  the 
tide  up  the  Ohio,  came  surging  across  Missouri, 
and  on  to  Oregon.  If  America  was  peopled  by 
the  specially  culled    brave  hearts    of  Europe,  so 


THE    WINNING    OF    THE    WEST.  123 

Oregon  was  settled  by  the  picked  brave  few  of 
their  descendants. 

As  one  of  that  year  says,  "We  had  preachers 
with  their  Bibles,  doctors  with  their  medicine- 
chests,  lawyers  with  their  law  books,  school 
teachers,  merchants  with  their  goods,  millers, 
wheelwrights,  carpenters  with  their  chests  of 
tools,  blacksmiths  with  anvils  and  bellows,  ready 
to  do  all  kinds  of  repairing  at  any  time  and 
place,  gunsmiths  and  silversmiths,  tailors  with 
their  geese,  shoemakers  with  lasts,  saddlers, 
dressmakers  and  milliners  with  their  needles, 
a  lumberman  with  his  heavy  log- wagon,  and 
last,  but  not  least,  farmers  with  and  without 
families." 

In  that  train  there  were  Durham  cattle  from 
Illinois,  Kentucky  horses,  Saxony  sheep.  A 
miller  from  Missouri  brought  a  pair  of  burr- 
stones  for  a  mill.  Thomas  Cox  and  son  brought 
dry  goods  for  the  first  store  in  Salem,  and 
peach  pits  originating  the  Cox  cling  peach  of 
Oregon  and  California.  Robert  Caufield  of  Ohio 
brought  a  stock  of  goods  for  a  store  at  Oregon 
City.  Dimick  of  Michigan  brought  seeds  from 
which  sprang  the  famous  Dimick  potato.  Ralph 
C.  Geer1  of  Illinois  brought  a  small  wrought-iron 

1  Uncle  of  the  present  governor  of  Oregon. 


124  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

cannon  that  was  made  to  celebrate  the  election  of 
Henry  Clay.  That  cannOn,  that  never  celebrated 
Clay's  victory,  was  fired  from  the  top  of  Indepen- 
dence Rock  on  the  Fourth  of  July  when  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  were  hoisted  to  the  Rocky  Mountain 
breeze. 

And  there  was  the  "Traveling  Nursery." 
Henderson  Luelling  of  Missouri  had  planted  in 
earth  in  his  wagon  boxes  seven  hundred  shoots 
of  apples,  pears,  plums,  cherries,  quinces,  grapes, 
berries,  and  flowers. 

"  It  is  a  very  hazardous  undertaking  to  draw 
such  a  heavy  load  all  the  way  over  the  Rocky 
Mountains,"  said  some. 

"They  will  dry  up  and  die  on  the  plains." 

"  The  overwork  will  kill  your  oxen." 

"You  can  never  keep  up." 

"You  endanger  your  family." 

"  You  had  better  leave  them  here  on  the  Platte." 

But  against  every  protest  the  nurseryman 
turned  a  resolute  ear.  He  brought  his  treasures 
in  triumph  to  Oregon.  Along  with  them  came  a 
bushel  of  apple  seeds  and  a  half-bushel  of  pear 
seeds.  From  that  stock  sprang  orchards  and 
nurseries  until  Oregon  became  "the  Land  of  Big 
Red  Apples." 


THE    CAYUSE   WAR. 


HE  year  1847  came  on  like  a 
mighty  drama.  The  withdrawal 
of  British  claims  created  such 
a  rush  of  immigration  that  no 
accurate  record  of  it  could  be 
kept.  Five  thousand  people  are 
estimated  to  have  crossed  the 
^orders  of  Oregon  in  1847. 

Away  back  in  Missouri  somebody  had  the 
measles.  It  spread  among  the  caravans.  White 
people  know  how  to  treat  the  disease,  but  to  In- 
dians it  was  death. 

The  tribes  around  Whitman's  mission  were  ad- 
vancing rapidly  in  civilization.  Already  they 
had  vast  herds.  Dr.  Whitman  had  built  them  a 
saw-mill  and  a  grist-mill. 
Many  of  the  promised  im- 
provements had  become 
realities.  But  the  immi- 
grants trampled  down  the 
Cayuse  pastures,  burned 
up  their  fuel,  and    killed 

125 


REFERENCE 

TOPICS. 

Causes  of  the 

war. 

Distrust  of  the  whites. 

Fear  of  losing 

lands. 

Superstition. 

Sickness. 

The  massacre. 

126  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

their  game.  The  smoldering  fires  of  resentment 
were  beginning  to  blaze.  They  were  no  longer 
friendly  to  the  incoming  tide. 

And  then  came  the  deadly  measles.  All  along 
the  Walla  Walla  the  Indians  lay  sick.  Dr.  Whit- 
man passed  among  them,  relieving,  encouraging, 
advising,  but  they  turned  their  faces  to  the  wig- 
wam wall.  Their  beloved  leader  had  brought 
this  great  affliction  upon  them.  Had  he  not  gone 
to  the  white  man's  country  and  started  this  never- 
ending  army  of  Bostons  toward  the  setting  sun? 

Despite  Whitman's  advice  and  precautions,  in 
the  midst  of  their  suffering,  to  allay  the  burning 
fever  they  leaped  into  the  cold  Walla  Walla, 
to  pop  up  dead.  Many  died  before  they  left  the 
water.  Some  crept  home  to  breathe  their  last  in 
lingering  agony.  In  every  lodge  the  death-wail 
sounded.  And  still  the  immigrants  kept  coming 
over  the  mountains. 

The  chiefs  drew  together,  they  whispered;  evil- 
disposed  half-breeds  helped  on  the  discontent, 
"  Dr.  Whitman  has  done  this.  He  has  brought 
poison  from  the  States  to  kill  you  all,  that  he  may 
take  your  lands."  But  Dr.  Whitman,  though 
warned  by  his  faithful  Sticcas,  would  not  desert 
his  post. 

He  could  not  leave.      His  house  was  fall  of  sick 


THE    CAYUSE    WAR.  127 

ones.  Several  of  his  own  family  of  eleven 
adopted  children  were  in  bed  with  the  measles. 
Strangers  were  tarrying  there,  fair  young  women, 
and  mothers  and  little  children.  One  November 
morning,  when  he  was  busily  engaged  in  prepar- 
ing medicine  for  a  sick  Indian,  the  blow  fell. 

The  heroic  Doctor  was  struck  down.  The  moth- 
erly Mrs.  Whitman  followed.  Whoever  tried  to 
resist  sank  beneath  the  tomahawk.  Some  fled, 
some  hid  under  the  floor,  some  were  captured 
and  carried  off  to  Indian  lodges. 

A  faithful  Indian  carried  the  word  to  Mrs. 
Spalding,  in  the  Nez  Perce  country,  at  Lapwai. 
She  was  in  her  .school  with  the  Indians  and  her 
children.  Two  Nez  Perce  chiefs  carried  her  in 
safety  to  their  lodges.  But  the  mission  at  Lapwai 
was  immediately  plundered  by  excited  renegades. 
Mr.  Spalding,  at  that  moment  on  his  way  to 
Whitman's,  was  turned  back  by  a  friendly  hand 
in  the  fog,  and  reached  unharmed  the  lodge  where 
his  wife  was  hidden. 

A  messenger  sped  down  the  Columbia  to  Fort 
Vancouver.  Without  delay,  Peter  Skeen  Ogden, 
one  of  the  noblest  of  all  the  Hudson's  Bay  factors, 
started  in  a  canoe,  with  blankets  and  trinkets,  to 
ransom  the  captives  held  by  the  savages. 

James  Douglas  sent  word  to  Oregon  City.     The 


128  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

legislature  was  in  session  when  the  panting  mes- 
senger landed  at  the  Falls.  That  very  morning 
Governor  Abernethy  had  been  discussing  their 
dangerous  situation  with  the  Indians.  Now,  when 
he  reported  an  actual  massacre,  excitement  leaped 
to  fever  heat.  Before  the  announcement  had 
fairly  left  the  governor's  lips,  Nesmith  was  on  his 
feet  with  a  resolution  to  dispatch  fifty  riflemen  to 
protect  the  mission  at  the  Dalles,  '"It  carried  with 
a  roar. 

In  fifteen  hours  from  the  time  they  enrolled 
their  names,  the  Spartan  band  ofMifty  were  on 
their  way  to  the  Dalles.  Five  hundred  volunteers 
rendezvoused  at  Oregon  City  on  Christmas  Day. 
Those  whom  Whitman  had  befriended  leaped  to 
avenge  his  death,  —  heroes  who  had  toiled  at  his 
side  in  '43,  and  immigrants  of  succeeding  years, 
who  had  hailed  his  mission  as  the  first  civilized 
landmark  west  of  the  Rockies. 

Applegate,  Lovejoy,  and  Abernethy,  on  their 
personal  credit,  purchased  arms  and  ammunition 
at  Fort  Vancouver.  The  women  of  Oregon  City 
baked,  and  sewed,  and  out  of  bits  of  bunting 
made  a  flag.  Farmers  came  hurrying  through 
the  woods  with  beans,  and  bacon,  and  lead,  and 
blankets, —  whatever  could  be  spared  to  fit  out  the 
little  army.      Cornelius  Gilliam,  an  immigrant  of 


THE    CAYUSE    WAR,  129 

1844,  was  placed  in  command.  Jo  Meek,  the 
trapper,  resigned  his  seat  in  the  legislature  to 
carry  the  news  to  Washington. 

"Will  people  at  Champoeg  join  their  Indian 
kindred?"  queried  the  anxious  settlers.  But 
Tom  McKay  settled  that.  Up  and  down  French 
Prairie  he  called  them  to  his  banner,  and  they 
marched  with  him  to  the  war. 

At  the  peril  of  his  life,  Ogden,  the  Hudson's 
Bay  trader,  went  into  the  Indian  country.  Seventy- 
two  people  had  been  at  Whitman's  mission;  thir- 
teen were  massacred.  Some  escaped,  but  Ogden 
succeeded  in  ransoming  forty-seven,  mostly  women 
and  children.  He  brought  these,  with  Spalding 
and  ten  others,  down  to  the  Willamette  Valley. 

Portland  was  a  village  in  the  woods,  but  it  tired 
a  salute  as  the  boats  went  by.  And  again  a  salute 
rang  out  as  the  gray-haired  old  hero  landed  his 
precious  freight  at  the  settlement  by  the  Falls. 
Governor  Abernethy  received  the  rescued  ones, 
and  in  the  name  of  humanity  thanked  the  coura- 
geous chief  factor  for  his  inestimable  service. 

The  painted  Cayuses  were  out  on  their  painted 
horses.  All  the  land  was  alive  when  the  ill- 
equipped  and  devoted  little  army  dragged  their 
only  piece  of  artillery,  a  rusty  nine-pounder, 
around  the  Cascades  in  a  driving  snow  into  the 
hostile  country. 


130  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

On  all  the  hills  the  demoniac  Indians  shouted, 
"The  Bostons  are  women!  the  Bostons  are 
women!"  In  all  the  valleys  they  hid  in  am- 
buscade. Some  of  them  crept  along  the  ravines 
to  the  Willamette  Valley  to  stir  up  the  Indians 
there,  while  the  volunteers  were  gone  from  the 
settlements.  The  Americans  advanced;  battle 
opened.  Some  boasters  fell  before  the  Bostons' 
deadly  fire.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  the 
Indians  vanished,  only  to  rise  again  with  the 
fusee's  deadly  click  and  the  arrow's  whizz  from 
every  little  knoll,  from  behind  each  hillock  and 
every  clump  of  verdure. 

Harassed,  picked  off  by  an  unseen  enemy,  night 
and  day  the  dauntless  volunteers  pressed  into  the 
heart  of  the  enemy's  country.  Governor  Aber- 
nethy's  peace  commissioners  were  hastily  cement- 
ing friendship  with  outlying  tribes.  Spalding  had 
printed  a  letter  with  his  pen  in  Indian  talk  to  his 
Nez  Perces:  — 


QUICK  MEET  THEM,  WITH  THESE  FLAGS  MEET  THEM. 
FROM  US,  FROM  THE  AMERICANS,  FIVE  GO  TO  MEET  YOU. 
THESE  MEET  YOU,  WITH  GOOD  HEARTS  THEY  MEET  YOU. 
THEY  BEAR  A  MESSAGE,  FROM  THE  GREAT  CHIEF  THEY 
BEAR  IT.  THEREFORE  THEY  CALL  YOU  TO  MEET  THKM. 
KEEP  QUIET,  YE  YOUNG  MEN,  DO  NOT  GO  OVER  TO  THE 
CAYUSES. 


THE    CAYUSE    WAR.  131 

And  they  did  not.  Chief  Joseph,  father  of  the 
famous  Chief  Joseph  of  a  later  day,  retired  with 
his  people  and  herds  to  their  home  in  the  Wallowa 
Valley.  Five  Crows,  his  handsome,  fiery  Cayuse 
cousin,  was  shot  by  Tom  McKay  in  that  very  first 
battle,  and  crept  away  to  die  in  the  lodge  of  Chief 
Joseph.  And  the  little  child,  Chief  Joseph  the 
Second,  heard  them  talking  day  by  day  of  the 
Bostons  that  came  to  take  the  country. 

Only  a  heap  of  ashes  marked  the  site  of  the 
Whitman  mission.  Poor  old  Sticcas!  He  gath- 
ered up  what  he  could  of  the  Doctor's  property 
and  delivered  it  to  the  volunteers. 

"And  where  are  the  murderers?"  demanded 
Colonel  Gilliam,  as  Sticcas  hastened  to  depart. 
With  frightened,  sidelong  glance,  he  waved  his 
hand  and  whispered,  "Fleeing  up  the  Tucanon." 

Up  the  Tucanon  the  volunteers  surprised  an 
Indian  camp,  apparently  just  making  its  toilet  for 
battle.  "We  Palouses,  we  friends,"  pleaded  the 
Indians. 

"Where  are  the  murderers?"  thundered  Gil- 
liam. 

"  Fled  to  the  land  of  Red  Wolf,  on  the  Snake." 
said  the  Indians.  "  Here  are  their  cattle.  Take 
them." 

The  hills  were  covered  with  Cayuse  herds.  The 


132  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

volunteers  set  out  to  drive  rive  hundred  head 
before  them.  A  flash,  a  whoop,  and  the  land  was 
afire  with  Indian  battle.  The  painted  camp  was 
out,  the  Palouses  sprang  from  the  very  earth. 
The  herds  were  lost  in  the  fierce,  running  battle  of 
the  Tucanon. 

For  thirty  hours  the  firing  never  ceased.  At 
last  the  struggling,  fighting,  fleeing  remnants  of 
the  almost  entrapped  Americans  escaped  beyond 
the  Touchet.  Behind,  sounded  the  dismal  death- 
wail  of  the  Indian.  Nothing  but  superior  arms 
and  ammunition  saved  the  Americans  on  that 
day. 

And  there  they  were,  in  the  heart  of  the 
enemy's  country,  almost  without  ammunition, 
and  wholly  without  bread.  Without  tents,  with- 
out shoes,  they  lived  on  what  they  could  find  in 
Indian  caches,  and  on  horse-meat,  and  slept  on 
the  ground. 

But  help  came  from  the  settlement  by  the  sea. 
With  dismay  the  Indians  beheld  a  second  army 
;nlvancing  into  their  territory.  Already  their 
herds  were  ruined,  ammunition  gone,  their  fami- 
lies scattered.  The  Cayuses,  as  a  people,  had  no 
heart  in  the  war.  Every  day  at  sunset  the  mothers 
lamented  the  wicked  act  that  had  brought  this 
trouble  upon  them. 


THE    CAYUSE    WAR.  133 

Gradually  the  opposition  narrowed  down  to  the 
few  who  had  participated  in  the  massacres,  and 
some  sympathizers  who  had  assisted  in  their  es- 
cape. They  sued  for  peace.  All  the  Cayuse  lands 
were  forfeited  to  the  United  States,  a  garrison  was 
left  at  a  rude  fort  thrown  up  on  the  site  of  Whit- 
man's house,  and  the  volunteers  returned  to  the 
valley. 

But  no  word  yet  from  Washington.  Unaided, 
Oregon  had  fought  it  out  alone.  Unaided  now, 
she  dug  her  gold  and  paid  her  volunteers. 

What  does  not  America  owe  to  her  Indian- 
fighters,  explorers,  hunters,  trappers,  missionaries, 
and  adventurers?  They,  before  all  others,  took 
the  land,  and  held  many  a  dark  and  bloody  ground 
for  civilization.  Never,  never,  did  the  bold,  un- 
flinching heroes  yield.  They  held,  in  trust,  a  home 
for  us.  To  these  our  nation  owes  its  homage. 
Our  institutions  are  their  monuments. 


OREGON   IN   CONGRESS. 


HEN  England  gave  back  Astoria 
in  1818,  there  was  an  agreement 
for  a  "Joint  Occupation"  of  the 
( >i  egon  country  for  ten  years. 

"  A  great  mistake,  a  great  mis- 
take," cried  out  Thomas  Hart  Ben- 
ton, a  young  lawyer  of  St.  Louis. 
'•  In  ten  years  that  little  nest-egg  of  'Joint  Occupa- 
tion '  will  hatch  out  a  lively  fighting  chicken." 

Missouri  was  qo1  ye1  a  state,  but  Benton  would 
not  be  still.  He  felt  a  responsibility  for  all  that 
Western  country;  and  why  should  he  not?  Mis- 
souri and  Oregon  touched  borders  on  the  sum- 
mit of  the  Rockies.  Were  they  not  next-door 
neighbors,  hobnobbing  over  the  fence,  as  it  were? 
Benton  set  out  for  Wash- 
ington by  one  of  the  first 
steamboats  that  ever  ran 
up  the  Ohio. 

Kamsay  Crooks  and  Rus- 
sell Farnham  of  the  Astor 
expedition  were  in  Wash- 

134 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 

JointOccupatlon  Treat  J  . 
Monroe  Doctrine. 
Oregon  a  colony. 
Battle  over  slavery. 
Oregon  a  territory. 


OREGON    IN    CONGRESS. 


135 


ington  that  winter,  quartered  at  the  same  hotel 

with  Floyd  of  Virginia  and  Benton  of  Missouri. 

Many  an  evening,  beside  their  whale-oil  lamps  in 

Hotel  Brown,  did  the  founders  of  Astoria  recount 

the  glories  of  the 

Columbia    beside 

the    distant     sea. 

Benton  wrote  for 

Oregon;   he  made 

a  noise  in  all  the 

papers. 

In  1820,  Dr. 
Floyd  presented 
in  Congress  a  bill 
for  the  occupation 
of  the  Columbia 
River.  Staid  Sen- , 
ators  smiled  at  the 
visionary  scheme. 
Missouri  was  just 
coming    in    as    a 

state.     The    moment    Benton,  her    first    Senator, 
was  seated,  he  flew  to  Floyd's  support. 

"We  must  occupy  the  Columbia,"  said  the 
young  Senator.  "Mere  adventurers  may  enter 
upon  it  as  ^Eneas  entered  upon  the  Tiber,  and  as 
our  forefathers  came  upon  the  Potomac,  the  Del- 


THOMAS    HART   BENTON". 


136  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

aware,  and  the  Hudson,  and  renew  the  phenome- 
non of  individuals  laying  the  foundation  of  future 
empire. 

"  Upon  the  people  of  eastern  Asia  the  establish- 
ment of  a  civilized  power  upon  the  opposite  coast 
of  America  cannot  fail  to  produce  great  and  won- 
derful results.  Science,  liberal  principles  and 
government,  and  the  true  religion,  may  cast  their 
lights  across  the  intervening  sea.  The  valley  of 
the  Columbia  may  become  the  granary  of  China 
and  Japan,  and  an  outlet  to  their  imprisoned  and 
exuberent  population." 

Men  called  Benton  a  dreamer.  We  call  him  a 
prophet.  Few,  if  any,  Senators  have  ever  been 
more  faithful  to  their  duties  than  was  Thomas 
H.  Benton,  the  champion  of  Oregon.  For  thirty 
3'ears  England  and  her  fur  companies  enriched 
themselves  in  Oregon  waters;  for  thirty  years  the 
champion  stood  in  his  place  and  fought  to  save 
us  Oregon.  His  is  a  heroic  figure  that  should 
adorn  our  State  House.  In  one  of  the  public 
squares  of  St.  Louis  there  is  a  bronze  statue  of 
Benton  as  he  used  to  stand  in  Congress,  with  one 
hand  pointing  toward  the  Columbia,  saying  ever 
those  prophetic  words,  "  There  is  the  East.  There 
is  India."  From  the  bedside  of  the  dying  Jeffer- 
son, Benton  took  up  the  great  enterprise  of  an 
overland  highway  to  India. 


OREGON    IN    CONGRESS.  137 

Members  of  Congress  knew  little  of  Oregon. 
They  talked  of  it  as  some  do  of  Alaska  to-day.  "  The 
only  part  of  the  territory  fit  to  occupy  is  that  part 
lying  upon  the  sea-coast,  —  a  strip  less  than  one 
hundred  miles  in  width;  the  rest  consists  of 
mountains  almost  inaccessible." 

"Why,  sir,  of  what  use  will  this  be  for  agricul- 
tural purposes?"  asked  Mr.  McDuffie  of  South 
Carolina.  "  I  would  not  for  that  purpose  give  a 
pinch  of  snuff  for  the  whole  territory.  I  thank 
God  for  his  mercy  in  placing  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains there.  Do  you  think  your  honest  farmers 
of  Pennsylvania,  New  York,  or  even  Ohio  or 
Missouri,  will  abandon  their  farms  to  go  upon  any 
such  enterprise  as  this?     God  forbid." 

But  New  England  generally  stood  by  us.  Said 
Senator  Baylies  of  Massachusetts,  "  Gentlemen, 
we  are  talking  of  natural  boundaries.  Sir,  our 
natural  boundary  is  the  Pacific  Ocean."  That 
was  in  1823.  "  The  spirit  of  migration  should  be 
repressed,"  said  Breckenridge  of  Kentucky.  Some 
thought  a  commercial  or  military  post  on  the 
Columbia  would  be  sufficient. 

You  have  all  heard  of  the  famous  Monroe  Doc- 
trine. Did  you  know  that  it  was  first  promulgated 
in  connection  with  Oregon?  President  Monroe,  in 
his  message  of  December,  1823,  referring  to  Ore- 


138  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

gon,  said,  "The  American  continents  are  hence- 
forth not  to  be  considered  as  subjects  for  future 
colonization  by  any  European  powers."  And 
that  statement  has  stood  from  that  day  to  this,  a 
protecting  aegis  over  North  and  South  America. 

Even  at  that  early  day  — - 1823  —  eighty  farmers 
and  mechanics  of  Maryland  petitioned  Congress 
to  pass  the  bill  of  occupation,  that  they  might 
emigrate  to  Oregon.  Three  thousand  people  in 
Massachusetts  followed  with  another  petition,  and 
a  company  in  Louisiana  asked  for  a  grant  of  forty 
square  miles.  If  Congress  had  listened  to  these 
petitions,  Oregon  might  have  been  settled  long 
before  it  was.  But,  by  and  by,  people  grew  tired 
of  petitioning  and  went  in  without  petition. 

■•  We  have  not  adopted  a  system  of  colonization, 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped  we  never  shall.  Oregon  can 
never  become  one  of  the  United  States,"  said 
Senator  Dickerson  of  New  Jersey  in  1825.  "  Has 
any  one  calculated  the  expense  of  getting  a  member 
of  Congress  from  Oregon  to  the  Potomac?  Will 
he  double  Cape  Horn,  or  come  by  a  new  route 
explored  under  the  North  Pole?  Or  will  he  come 
over  lofty  mountains  with  twelve  feet  of  snow  on 
their  summits  in  July?  "  Of  course  the  Senators 
laughed,  but  the  champion  was  ready.  Benton 
was  a  tighter  in  the  days  when  Oregon  needed  a 
fighter. 


OREGON    IN    CONGRESS.  139 

Some  said  the  colonial  system  was  foreign  to 
the  principles  of  the  American  republic;  some 
denied  the  right  of  Congress  to  colonize;  others 
said  the  land  must  be  governed  by  a  military 
chieftain,  and  this  was  unconstitutional.  Some 
objected  to  the  policy  of  occupying  Oregon.  Others 
said  it  was  wrong  to  despoil  the  natives  of  their 
territory;  it  would  be  better  to  leave  it  as  a  per- 
petual retreat  for  the  red  men;  the  only  purpose 
to  which  the  plains  could  be  devoted  was  a  range 
for  buffaloes. 

"  Admit  that  you  shall  succeed  in  planting  a 
colony,"  said  another.  "  Sir,  they  will  suffer  by 
famine,  and  famine  will  quickly  bring  pestilence 
in  its  rear.  A  barren  soil,  an  inclement  sky,  the 
want  of  all  things, — and  }rou  will  see  a  destruc- 
tion of  human  life  unparalleled  in  history."  So 
tremblingly  has  the  republic  spread,  always  fear- 
ing disaster,  begging  delay,  yet  passing  by  leaps 
and  bounds  to  unknown  shores. 

Along  in  the  thirties  another  great  friend  of 
Oregon  arose,  —  Lewis  F.  Linn  of  Missouri,  one  of 
the  most  lovable  Senators  that  ever  sat  in  Con- 
gress. In  1839,  Dr.  Linn  introduced  a  bill  for  the 
occupation  of  the  Columbia  River,  and  in  it  was 
that  plea  for  grants  of  land  to  settlers  suggested 
by    Jason  Lee,  the  missionary,  who  had  proved 


140  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

that  Americans  could  live  in  Oregon.  No  people 
in  the  world  are  more  eager  for  land  than  Ameri- 
cans. Pioneer  sons  of  pioneer  fathers  from  Maine 
to  Kentucky  read  Linn's  bill  with  delight. 

Again  a  chorus  of  objectors  in  Congress  cried, 
"  What  do  we  want  with  that  country  so  far 
away?  "  The  old  lion  Benton  came  in  with  a 
stroke  of  the  paw  now  and  then  when  too  many 
opponents  arose  against  his  young  colleague.  "  Is 
it  demanded,"  he  roared,  "  What  do  we  want 
with  this  country  so  far  from  us?  I  answer  by 
asking  in  my  turn,  What  do  the  British  want  with 
it,  who  are  so  much  farther  off?  They  want  it  for 
the  fur  trade;  for  a  colony;  for  an  outlet  to  the 
sea;  for  communication  across  the  continent;  for 
a  road  to  Asia;  ...  to  command  the  commerce 
of  the  North  Pacific  Ocean,  and  open  new  chan- 
nels of  trade  with  China,  Japan,  Polynesia,  and 
with  the  great  East.  They  want  it  for  these  rea- 
sons, and  we  want  it  for  the  same;  because  it  ad- 
joins us,  belongs  to  us,  and  should  be  possessed 
by  our  descendants." 

With  all  the  ardor  of  his  nature,  Linn  pleaded 
for  a  chain  of  military  posts  to  protect  emigrants 
traversing  the  plains,  and  for  grants  of  land  to 
intending  settlers.  "  Wait;  time  is  acting  for 
us;  wait,"  said  Calhoun  of  South  Carolina. 


OREGON    IN    CONGRESS.  141 

"We  have  waited,"  said  Benton.  "I  go  now 
for  vindicating  our  rights  on  the  Columbia;  and 
as  the  first  step  toward  it,  passing  this  bill  and 
making  these  grants  of  land,  which  will  soon 
place  thirty  or  forty  thousand  rifles  beyond  the 
Rocky  Mountains." 

Just  then,  in  the  thick  of  the  battle,  Linn,  the 
beloved  apostle  of  Oregon,  died,  in  December, 
1843.  But  Whitman  and  that  first  train  of  wag- 
ons had  already  crossed  the  Rockies. 

"The  saving  of  Oregon  devolved  upon  the  peo- 
ple," says  Benton  in  his  "Thirty  Years'  View." 
And  they  saved  it. 

"  The  maddest  enterprise  that  has  ever  deluded 
foolish  man,"  said  the  Louisville  Journal. 

"None  but  the  wild  and  fearless  trapper  can 
clamber  over  those  precipices  and  tread  those 
deserts  in  security,"  said  John  Dunn,  a  clerk  of 
the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  in  a  book  just  then 
published  in  London. 

"Oregon  will  never  be  colonized  overland  from 
the  United  States.  The  world  will  assume  a  new 
face  before  the  American  wagons  can  make  plain 
the  road  to  the  Columbia  as  they  have  to  the 
Ohio,"  said  the  Edinburgh  Review. 

However  dilatory  and  deprecatory  we  were  our- 
selves,   the    moment    England     said    a    word    all 


142  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

America  was  up  in  arms.  Not  in  vain  had  Con- 
gress listened  to  this  interminable  Oregon  ques- 
tion. For  years  the  siates  had  been  born  in 
pairs.  Now  the  great  state  of  Texas  was  coming 
in.  Statesmen  cast  their  eyes  to  the  North  for  a 
companion  to  the  "Lone  Star"  of  the  South. 
Oregon  caught  their  eye.  All  at  once  the  coun- 
try kindled  with  the  cry  of  "Fifty-four  forty,  or 
fight,"  "All  of  Oregon,  or  none."  And  Polk  was 
elected  on  that  battle-call. 

There  was  a  great  deal  said  across  the  water, 
too,  and  in  the  papers  of  both  countries,  inflaming 
the  people.  It  looked  then  as  if  Congress  might 
have  a  war  on  her  hands,  and  she  did,  but  not  for 
Oregon. 

We  settled  the  boundary  line  with  England  in 
1846.  Great,  then,  was  the  disappointment  in 
Oregon  when  the  immigration  of  1S46  and  then 
of  1847  arrived,  and  still  no  evidence  of  govern- 
mental jurisdiction  came  to  the  far-off  colony. 

Grave  and  graver  grew  the  situation  in  those 
autumn  days  of  1847,  when  the  Indians  were  sick 
with  the  measles.  Dr.  Whitman  had  been  to  the 
Willamette  Valley;  he  foresaw  as  no  other  could 
the  possible  impending  tragedy.  Closeted  with 
Governor  Abernethy  and  John  Quinn  Thornton, 
supreme  judge    of    the    colony,    he    revealed    his 


OREGON    IN    CONGRESS.  143 

hidden  fears.  "You  must  go  to  Washington  and 
do  what  you  can,"  he  said  to  Thornton.  "  Nothing 
but  a  strong  territorial  government  will  save  me 
and  my  mission,  and  perhaps  all  these  settlements, 
from  falling  under  the  murderous  hands  of  sav- 
ages." 

With  bated  breath  trains  of  frightened  immi- 
grants hurried  over  the  trails  to  the  Willamette.. 

They  told  of  constant  insults.  The  sickness 
and  the  anger  of  the  Indians  appalled  the  valley. 
Men  met  in  whispers.  None  were  safe.  Governor 
A  bernethy  hastened  from  point  to  point  to  soothe 
excited  tribes.  In  vain.  Home  again,  he  placed 
in  the  hands  of  Judge  Thornton  a  letter  to  Presi- 
dent Polk,  saying, — 

"  You  are  our  only  hope.  There  is  a  bark  in 
the  river.     Go  at  once  to  Washington." 

There  was  no  money  in  the  colony,  but  among 
the  principal  men  a  collection  was  taken  in  per- 
sonal notes,  flour,  and  drafts  on  Eastern  mission 
boards.  The  bark  Wkiton  sped  down  the  coast, 
The  flour  was  sold  in  San  Francisco.  Judge 
Thornton  was  carried  on  to  Lower  California  and 
left,  stranded.  The  Mexican  War  was  on.  Near 
a  small  fort  that  had  been  captured  by  the 
Americans  lay  a  sloop  of  war,  the  Portsmouth. 
To  its  commander  the  almost  despairing  dele- 
gate applied  for  aid. 


144  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

"  In  case  I  find  a  United  States  minister  or  dip- 
lomat stranded  as  you  are,  it  is  my  duty  to  render 
him  any  assistance  in  my  power,"  said  Captain 
Montgomery  when  he  had  examined  Thornton's 
papers.  "Yours  is  a  national  mission.  Under 
the  rules,  I  shall  not  hesitate  to  take  you  to  the 
States."  And  so  the  captain  of  the  sloop  took  on 
the  delegate  as  an  honored  guest,  turned  prow,  and 
hurried  with  him  around  the  Horn  to  Washing- 
ton. 

Eight  days  after  the  departure  of  Thornton 
came  the  frightful  Whitman  massacre.  "  We  can- 
not wait  for  one  to  travel  around  the  Horn; 
some  one  must  cross  the  mountains,"  was  the 
quick  decision.  As  quickly  every  eye  turned  to 
Jo  Meek,  the  daring  mountain-man.  It  was 
winter,  the  snows  were  on  the  trails,  but  Meek, 
undaunted,  set  out  with  the  first  volunteers  of  the 
Cayuse  war.  His  own  little  daughter,  Helen  Mar, 
born  in  the  mountains,  of  an  Indian  mother,  and 
named  for  the  heroine  of  "The  Scottish  Chiefs," 
lay  dead  at  that  Whitman  mission. 

Dressed  in  the  red  belt  and  Canadian  cap  of  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company,  Meek  and  his  com- 
panions, two  other  mountain-men,  passed  the 
hostile  Bannocks  and  the  threatening  Sioux,  deep 
in  their  snowy  camps  of  winter.     Here  and  there 


OREGON    IN    CONGRESS.  145 

in  a  hollow  of  the  Bear  or  Green  River  he  met 
Bridger  and  other  old  comrades  of  the  mountain 
time. 

In  two  months  they  reached  the  settlements. 
Of  course,  hotels  were  closed  to  savage-dressed 
men  of  the  mountains  without  money.  Meek  re- 
membered that  he  had  a  letter  in  his  pocket  from 
two  Oregon  volunteers  to  their  father  at  St.  Jo. 
He  hunted  him  up.  Gladly  the  old  gentleman 
took  them  in,  conveyed  them  in  his  own  carriage 
to  Independence,  and  secured  steamboat  passage 
to  St.  Louis.  Here,  with  the  good  luck  that  ever 
attended  the  rollicking,  jolly  Jo  Meek,  he  met 
at  the  landing  an  old  friend  in  a  Rocky  Mountain 
trader.  To  him  he  told  the  news.  The  next 
morning  the  St.  Louis  papers  were  full  of  the 
Whitman  massacre. 

Jo  Meek  telegraphed  to  Washington.  "Come 
on,"  answered  President  Polk.  Down  at  the 
wharf  steamboats  were  calling  for  passengers. 
Boldly  Meek  walked  on  one,  and,  mounting  the 
hurricane  deck,  shouted  in  trumpet  tone,  "  This 
way,  gentlemen;  come  right  on  board  if  you  want 
to  hear  the  news  from  Oregon.  I  'm  just  across 
the  plains,  two  months  from  the  Columbia  River, 
whar  the  Injuns  are  killing  your  missionaries." 
Of  course,  in  a  few  minutes  that  boat  was  crowded, 


146  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

and  the  astonished  captain  gave  this  surprising 
helper  free  passage  to  the  end  of  his  route. 

So  it  was  everywhere.  To  the  inquiry,  "  Who 
are  you?"  Meek's  reply,  "I  am  Envoy  Extraor- 
dinary and  Minister  Plenipotentiary  from  the 
Republic  of  Oregon  to  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States,"  always  brought  electric  admission  to 
hotels  and  coaches. 

At  Washington,  Meek  hastened  to  the  White 
House.  A  mulatto,  with  whom  he  played  as  a  boy 
on  the  old  Virginia  plantation,  admitted  him  at 
the  door.  The  colored  man  spoke  to  Knox  Wal- 
ker, the  President's  private  secretary.  Bounding 
forward,  that  high  dignitary  grasped  both  hands 
of  the  Oregon  trapper.  "  Why,  Uncle  Jo  !  "  he 
cried. 

In  a  few  moments  Polk  dismissed  his  other 
visitors  and  turned  to  Jo  Meek,  his  relative,  long 
lost  in  Oregon  wilds.  The  special  message,  with 
which  he  had  traveled  three  thousand  miles  over 
mountain,  plain,  and  winter  snows,  was  delivered 
into  the  hands  of  the  President. 

"  Now  you  must  see  Mrs.  Polk,"  said  the  Presi- 
dent, as  Meek  arose  to  go.  "  And  you  must  stop 
at  the  White  House." 

A  mist  came  over  the  trapper's  eyes.  "  When 
I  heard    the  silks  rustling  in  the  passage,  I  felt 


OREGON    IN    CONGRESS.  147 

more  frightened  than  if  a  hundred  Blackfeet  had 
whooped  in  my  ear,"  was  Jo  Meek's  confession 
long  years  after. 

Whitman  in  his  old  fur  coat,  burnt  and  full  of 
holes,  before  Daniel  Webster;  Jo  Meek  in  moun- 
tain blankets  and  wolfskin  cap;  Thornton  with- 
out a  dollar  in  his  pocket,  — ■  of  such  stuff  were  the 
heroes  of  early  Oregon,  worthy  sons  of  Revolu- 
tionary sires.  Lewis  and  Clark  stranded  among 
the  Oregon  Indians,  our  immigrants  in  rags  and 
tatters,  but  come  to  build  a  state,  —  what  were 
clothes  to  men  like  these? 

Of  course,  Polk  put  Meek  into  the  hands  of  bar- 
ber and  tailor.  Scarcely  could  the  Oregon  trap- 
per recognize  himself  in  that  fashionable  gentle- 
man in  the  tall  looking-glass. 

Both  Meek  and  Thornton  reached  Washington 
in  May.  Congress  received  with  welcome  these 
two  representatives  of  that  far-off  land  beyond 
the  Great  American  Desert.  They  came,  as 
it  were,  with  a  gift  in  their  hands,  —  the  gift  of  a 
fair,  young,  future  state,  snatched  by  those  emi- 
grants, not  only  from  savage  tribes,  but  from  a 
rival  power. 

News  of  the  Whitman  massacre  shocked  Con- 
gress into  action.  And  yet,  who  would  ever 
.suppose  that  the  fate  of  Oregon  hung  on  slavery? 


148  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Thornton  drew  up  a  memorial  for  the  people  of 
Oregon.     Benton  presented  it  to  Congress. 

"Withdraw  that  clause  against  slavery,  and 
your  bill  for  territorial  government  will  pass 
without  opposition,"  said  the  friendly  Southern 
Senators. 

"  But  I  cannot  do  that,"  said  Thornton.  "  The 
people  of  Oregon  adopted  that  in  their  Provisional 
Government."  And  then  the  Senators  seemed  to 
forget  all  about  Oregon  in  their  wrangle  over 
slavery. 

"  The  slave  is  property  which  its  owner  may 
carry  with  him  into  any  part  of  the  Union,"  said 
Jefferson  Davis  of  Mississippi. 

"  Slavery,  like  the  waters  of  the  Nile,  has  spread 
its  fertilizing  influences  over  all  the  world,"  said 
Calhoun  of  South  Carolina,  with  more  to  the  same 
effect.  He  talked  all  one  forenoon.  That  dulcet 
voice  almost  carried  away  the  listening  Senate. 

Both  Davis  and  Calhoun  threatened  disunion, 
"  if  the  North  is  determined  to  destroy  slavery." 

"  I  am  not  apprehensive  of  disunion,"  answered 
he  whom  they  called  "the  godlike  Daniel," — Web- 
ster. "  I  never  contemplate  its  possibility;  I  never 
accustom  myself  to  think  of  such  a  contingency." 

Benton,  a  slave-owner  himself ,  said,"  If  Oregon 
does  not  want  slavery,  it  shall  not  be  forced  upon 
her." 


OREGON    IN    CONGRESS.  149 

"  We  know  where  Benton  may  be  found,"  said 
Calhoun  in  a  mocking  voice. 

"  I  shall  be  found,"  answered  Benton,  flashing 
back  a  reply  that  men  remember  yet,  —  "  I  shall  be 
found  in  the  right  place,  on  the  side  of  my  country 
and  the  Union." 

Weeks  flew.  Congress  was  to  adjourn  at  twelve 
m.,  Monday,  August  14th.  It  was  now  Saturday, 
and  }^et  nothing  had  been  done  about  Oregon.  All 
the  time  had  been  wasted  in  slavery  disputes. 
Imagine,  then,  the  breathless  suspense  with  which 
the  Oregon  delegates  entered  the  Senate  hall  of 
the  nation  on  that  memorable  12th  of  August. 
Benton,  Douglas,  "the  Little  Giant,"  of  Illinois, 
and  Hale  of  New  Hampshire  called  them  aside, 
saying,  "We  have  agreed  upon  a  'golden  silence,' 
but  we  shall  vote  against  every  motion  to  adjourn 
until  your  bill  is  passed."  The  bill  had  come  back 
from  the  House,  but  was  now  so  clogged  with 
amendments  that  Benton  moved  that  the  Senate 
recede  from  its  amendments. 

"  A  few  years  ago,"  said  Benton,  "  we  were 
ready  to  fight  all  the  world  to  get  possession  of 
Oregon.  Now  we  are  just  as  willing  to  throw  her 
away.  She  is  left  without  a  government,  without 
laws,  while  at  this  moment  she  is  engaged  in  a 
war  with    the    Indians.     Can  this   Senate  satisfy 


150  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

itself  that  it  will  have  performed  its  duty  while 
it  sits  with  folded  arms  and  declines  to  do  any- 
thing? It  is  a  duty,  enforced  hy  the  awful  solem- 
nity of  our  oaths,  to  provide  a  government  for 
Oregon." 

About  ten  o'clock  that  Saturday  night,  Senator 
Foote  of  Mississippi,  the  colleague  of  Jefferson 
Davis,  arose  and  said,  "  I  can  speak  two  entire 
nights  and  days,  if  necessary,  to  defeat  this  bill." 
And  he  began.  Friends  of  the  bill  prepared  for 
a  night  of  it.  Some  steadfastly  kept  their  seats. 
Others  posted  trusty  pages  at  the  doors  and  retired 
for  rest  and  lunches.  The  night  wore  on.  At 
intervals  Foote  paused  for  a  motion  for  adjourn- 
ment. The  pages  roused  the  sleeping  Senators. 
In  they  rushed  to  vote  "  No,"  and  retired  again 
to  their  couches.  All  night  Foote  talked,  with 
occasional  assistance.  All  night  and  far  into 
Sunday  morning  the  friends  of  Oregon  watched. 
At  eight  o'clock  Foote  said  no  further  opposition 
would  be  made.  At  nine  o'clock  every  amend- 
ment was  receded  as  Benton  asked,  and  at  half- 
past  nine  o'clock  that  Sunday  morning,  August 
13,  1848,  the  bill  was  passed  that  made  Oregon  a 
territory.  Benton  went  home  that  morning, 
crowned  with  the  victory  of  a  lifetime. 

A  few  hours  later,   p-    -ident  Polk  signed  the 


OREGON    IN    CONGRESS.  151 

bill.  Jo  Meek  was  appointed  United  States  mar- 
shal for  Oregon  territory,  and  was  delegated  to 
carry  a  governor's  commission  to  General  Joseph 
Lane,  the  "Marion  of  the  Mexican  War." 

"How  soon  can  you  be  ready?"  asked  Meek 
when  he  arrived  at  Lane's  farm  in  Indiana. 

"In  fifteen  minutes,"  was  the  reply.  Three 
days  later,  with  a  mounted  escort,  Jo  Meek  the 
marshal  and  Jo  Lane  the  governor  set  out  on 
horseback  for  the  far-away  land  of  Oregon. 


BLACKBOARD    STUDIES. 

Benton's  "Thirty  Years'  View." 

Jo  Meek's  journey  to  Washington:  Mrs.  Victor's  "  River  of 

the  West." 
Judge  Thornton's  journey   to   Washington:  Oregonian,   May 

24,  1885. 
Thornton's  Hist.  Prov.  Govt.,  Pioneer  Transactions,  1874. 


THE    DAYS    OF   GOLD. 


» VER  the  Santa  Fe  trail  and  through 
the  drouth-stricken  regions  of  Ari- 
zona, Jo  Meek  the  marshal  and  Jo 
Lane  the  governor  traveled  on  the 
road  to  Oregon.  Day  by  day  their 
horses  died.  One  by  one  the  bag- 
gage -  wagons  were  abandoned. 
Their  men  deserted,  until  of  the  fifty-five  that 
started  from  Fort  Leavenworth  only  a  straggling, 
footsore  few  remained.  In  January  they  crossed 
southern  California  to  the  coast.  A  ship  was  found 
to  San  Francisco. 

But  what  is  this?  The 
shores  of  San  Francisco 
were  crowded  with  ships, 
ships,  ships,  and  people. 
On  the  sands  two  hundred 
Oregonians  stood  with  bags 
in  their  hands,  vainly  seek- 
ing a  passage  to  Oregon. 
"What  has  happened?" 
cried    Jo  Meek  to  his  ac- 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 

Territorial  government, 
1849-69. 

PacificTTniversity  found- 
ed, 1848. 

The  Oregonian  started, 
December,  1850. 

The  Statesman,  March, 
1851. 

The  Umpqua  Gazette, 
1854. 

The  Lot  Whitcomb 
launched,  1850. 


152 


THE    DAYS    OF    GOLD.  153 

quaintances  on  every  hand.  Happened?  Why, 
he  had  landed  in  the  very  midst  of  — 

"  Those  days  of  old, 
The  days  of  gold, 
The  days  of '49." 

Nothing  but  "  gold,  gold,  gold,"  conld  be  heard  in 
San  Francisco.  During  those  months  while  Meek 
and  the  governor  were  toiling  across  the  conti- 
nent, all  Oregon,  all  the  world,  had  been  rushing 
madly  to  California.  Already  one  winter's  work 
had  filled  the  sacks  of  the  Oregonians,  and  they 
were  going  home. 

For  a  fabulous  sum  an  old  East  India  teakwood 
ship  was  chartered,  that  carried  them  to  tin 
Columbia  River.  In  boats  they  came  up  from 
Astoria,  and  on  March  3,  1849,  the  last  day  of 
Polk's  administration,  Governor  Joseph  Lane  en- 
tered into  office  at  Oregon  City.  That  was  the 
beginning  of  ten  storm}'  territorial  years  of  growth 
and  expansion  in  the  days  of  gold. 

It  was  James  Marshall,  an  Oregon  immigrant 
of  1844,  that  found  the  gold.  He  went  to  Sutter's 
mill.  Working  there,  one  day  he  caught  the  glit- 
ter of  golden  rock.  He  called  Sutter  aside  and 
showed  the  treasure.  Of  course  the  secret  could 
not  be  kept.  The  very  winds  whispered  it.  Swift 
little  sailers  sped  to  Oregon,  the  nearest  port,  for 


154  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

picks  and  pans  and  shovels.  The  lately  returned 
volunteers  of  the  Cayuse  war  left  their  sickles  in 
the  harvest  and  poured  into  California,  pell-mell, 
fully  a  year  before  the  rest  of  the  world  received 
the  news. 

By  land,  by  sea,  afoot  and  horseback,  south- 
ward poured  the  population,  leaving  mothers, 
wives,  and  daughters  to  keep  the  homes  and  farms 
and  workshops.  Only  five  old  men  were  left  at 
Salem.  Only  a  few  women,  children,  and  some 
Indians  were  left  at  Oregon  City.  The  Oregon 
Spectator  suspended  for  want  of  printers.  There 
was  not  a  quorum  for  the  legislature.  Oregon 
bid  fair  to  be  depopulated.  Even  the  immigrants 
turned  from  the  Oregon  trail  to  California.  And 
now  the  spring  of  1849  found  every  home-bound 
vessel  filled  with  returning  Oregonians. 

The  Oregon  to  which  Jo  Meek  came  back  was 
not  the  Oregon  from  which  he  had  hastened  with 
disastrous  news  one  year  before.  Now  the  Indians 
were  cowed  and  still.  Money  circulated  in  hand- 
fuls.  Under  an  act  of  the  colonial  legislature, 
fifty  thousand  dollars  was  minted  at  Oregon  City 
to  pay  the  volunteers  of  the  Cayuse  war. 

Where,  of  old,  two  or  three  ships  a  year  had  en- 
tered the  Columbia  River,  now  fifty  arrived  in  1849. 
Twenty  vessels  stood  waiting  at  once  for  cargoes. 


THE    DAYS    OF    GOLD. 


155 


Portland,  from  a  village  in  the  woods,  leaped  to  a 
city.  Flour  taken  down  to  California  sold  for  one 
hundred  dollars  a  barrel.  Butter,  eggs,  vegetables, 
were  worth  their  weight  in  gold.  Apples  from 
those    early    Oregon    orchards    brought    a  dollar 


OREGON  BEAVER  COIN.   IN  THE  DAYS  OF  GOLD. 


apiece.  In  1851,  Luelling  of  Milwaukee  sold  four 
bushels  of  apples  for  five  hundred  dollars;  the 
next  year,  forty  bushels  brought  him  two  thousand 
five  hundred  dollars.  Direct  trade  opened  with 
China,  and  tea,  coffee,  sugar,  and  syrups  were 
brought  to  Portland. 


156       WESTERN  SERIES  OF  READERS. 

In  the  spring  of  '49  the  United  States  govern- 
ment sent  a  mounted  rifle  regiment  to  Oregon. 
In  January,  three  hundred  of  them  deserted  for 
the  California  gold-fields.  In  the  same  way  the 
Hudson's  Bay  hunters  from  Fort  Vancouver  ran 
away,  leaving  the  fort  deserted.  James  Douglas, 
who  has  succeeded  McLoughlin,  could  stand  it  no 
longer.  He,  too,  packed  up  and  moved  away  to 
Vancouver  Island,  where  he  started  a  new  fort, 
Victoria.  And  Bonneville,  who  had  been  driven 
away,  came  now  to  command  the  new  United 
States  military  post  at  the  old  Hudson's  Bay 
stronghold. 

In  the  days  of  gold,  Ulysses  S.  Grant,  a  young 
lieutenant,  was  sent  to  Fort  Vancouver.  Provis- 
ions were  so  high  that  he  and  his  brother  officers 
plowed  up  a  patch  of  the  old  Hudson's  Bay 
ground  and  planted  a  crop  of  potatoes,  hoping  to 
make  a  fortune  in  their  sale. 

In  December,  1850,  Thomas  J.  Dryer  started 
the  Oregonian  at  Portland.  The  following  March, 
the  Statesman  was  started  at  Oregon  City.  When 
the  capital  was  changed  to  Salem,  the  Statesman 
followed;  when  it  went  to  Corvallis,  there,  too, 
went  the  Statesman.  Some  laughed  at  the  "paper 
on  wheels."  "  Wherever  the  seat  of  government 
is,  there  is  the  Statesman"  answered  Asahel  Bush, 


THE    DAYS    OF    GOLD.  157 

the  editor,  and  back  with  the  legislators  it  went 
to  Salem  for  a  permanent  home. 

In  the  old  mission  days  Jason  Lee  brought 
Spanish  cattle  into  Oregon.  Now,  in  the  days 
of  gold,  descendants  of  those  cattle  were  driven 
back  over  the  Siskiyous  to  feed  the  miners  in 
California.  As  the  cattle  trains  moved  along, 
their  drivers  spied  and  spied  each  gulch  for  gold. 
In  1851  a  miner  struck  gold  on  a  creek;  he  named 
it  for  his  little  daughter,  Josephine.  A  whole 
county  in  southern  Oregon  bears  to-day  the  classic 
name  of  Josephine. 

Two  drivers  of  a  cattle  train  camped  in  a  gulch. 
That  night  they  found  placers  of  extraordinary 
richness.  Miners  trooped  in  by  the  thousands, 
and  Jackson's  gulch  became  Jacksonville.  Nug- 
gets of  ten  dollars,  forty  dollars,  one  hundred  dol- 
lars, and  even  nine  hundred  dollars,  were  picked 
up.  Ah,  those  were  great  days.  A  man  might 
be  penniless  at  daybreak,  and  before  night  the 
richest  man  in  the  valley. 

Men  that  came  for  gold  brought  their  families 
and  planted  their  homes  on  the  hillsides  of  the 
Rogue  and  the  Umpqua.  Curious  little  pockets 
were  found  where  veins  of  gold  seemed  to  cross, 
and  sometimes,  in  a  space  not  much  larger  than 
a   cubic    foot,  as    much    as  ten  thousand  dollars 


158  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

could  be  taken  out  at  once.  Over  thirty  million 
dollars  in  gold  has  been  taken  out  of  Jackson 
County  alone.  Literally,  the  streams  of  southern 
Oregon  flow  over  golden  sands. 

The  next  discovery  was  that  the  sea-beach  sands 
were  full  of  gold.  Men  to-day  are  sailing  to 
Nome.  Oregon,  too,  has  a  gold  beach,  richer  than 
Nome.  Thousands  flew  to  the  shores  of  Oregon. 
Coos  Bay  and  the  mouth  of  the  Rogue  and  Ump- 
qua  and  Coquille  rivers  were  filled  with  prospec- 
tors. Claims  were  taken,  homes  founded;  Port 
Orford,  Ellensburg,  and  Empire  City  grew.  Roads 
were  opened,  steamers  began  to  touch  at  those 
shores.  In  1854  the  first  newspaper  of  southern 
Oregon,  the  Umpqua  Gazette,  was  started  at  Scotts- 
burg. 

For  a  hundred  miles  they  found  the  black 
magnetic  sand,  a  sort  of  disintegrated  iron,  full 
of  flakes  of  finest  gold.  It  was  not  uncommon  for 
a  man  to  extract  one  thousand  dollars  in  a  day, 
and  for  many  to  gather  from  twenty  to  one 
hundred  dollars.  For  forty  years  now,  miners 
have  been  working  at  these  gold-beach  sands. 
After  every  storm,  people  watch  the  beach  to  see 
if  they  can  pick  up  a  bank  account  at  once  under 
the  disintegrated,  falling  cliffs.  Fortunes  have 
been  taken  away,  but  the  sands  a're  as  full  of  gold 


THE    DAYS    OF    GOLD.  159 

as  ever.  There  they  lie,  kissed  by  the  sun  and 
the  sea,  waiting  the  inventive  genius  that  can  find 
a  quicker  process  of  extracting  the  gold  than  any 
known  at  present. 

Immigrants  now  began  to  remember  that  in 
coming  to  Oregon  by  the  southern  route  in  1846, 
in  passing  through  the  Malheur  country  they  had 
come  across  an  unfamiliar  metal  which  they  had 
hammered  out  on  a  wagon  tire.  "  Where  was  it? 
Where  was  it?  "  they  asked  in  vain,  for  no  one 
could  remember.  Some  even  went  back  and  tried 
to  find  the  lost  gold  country.  Similar  reports 
flew  about  the  Spokane  land.  Now  it  was  said  the 
Indians  were  picking  up  nuggets  on  the  Yakima. 
All  at  once  it  seemed  as  if  every  gulch  and  canon 
hid  the  precious  possibility. 

Gold  was  sought  on  many  a  stream.  Parties 
scattered  over  the  John  Day  and  Powder  rivers, 
where  Bonneville  camped  in  the  long  ago.  Many 
a  stray  nugget  kept  up  the  story  of  the  lost  dig- 
gings. In  a  wonderful  manner,  traces,  and  even 
diggings,  of  gold  were  found  all  over  eastern  Ore- 
gon. On  the  Powder  River,  one  claim  yielded 
six  thousand  dollars  in  four  days,  and  one  pan 
of  earth  contained  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

At  one  time  a  thousand  miners  were  digging 
and  trading  on  the  headwaters  of  the  John  Day 


160  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

River,  getting  from  fifteen  to  twenty  dollars  a 
day.  As  the  miners  went  along  they  picked  out 
their  claims,  erected  their  cabins,  and  so  eastern 
Oregon  was  settled.  Grain  was  sown,  and  the 
land  that  once  seemed  desert  began  to  blossom  as 
the  rose.  In  the  charming  Grand  Ronde  Valley, 
a  city  grew  in  a  night,  —  La  Grande,  —  and,  a  little 
later,  Baker  City  took  its  rise.  Every  road  from 
Baker  City  leads  to  a  gold  mine.  To-day,  out  of 
those  Blue  Mountains,  where  struggled  the  heroes 
of  '43,  millions  are  taken  every  year.  Roads  were 
opened  and  counties  organized,  —  the  magical 
result  in  the  wake  of  gold. 

One  day  a  Nez  Perce  Indian  said  to  an  old 
gold-hunter,  "  One  night,  with  two  of  my  people, 
I  slept  in  a  canon  deep  and  dark.  High  in  the 
rocky  sides  we  saw  an  eye  of  light.  It  watched 
us  all  the  night,  and  we  watched  it.  In  the  morn- 
ing we  looked.  It  was  fast  in  the  rock;  we  could 
not  move  it.  It  was  great  medicine,  and  we  left 
it  there." 

That  old  gold-hunter  rested  not,  seeking  for 
that  "ball  of  light"  in  the  land  of  the  Nez  Perces. 
From  his  discoveries  came  the  Salmon  River  rush 
and  the  settlement  of  the  future  Idaho. 

In  1856,  gold  discoveries  on  the  Fraser  River 
settled  British    Columbia  and  located    thousands 


THE    DAYS    OF    GOLD.  161 

on  the  shores  of  Puget  Sound.  Among  others 
who  went  was  M.  M.  McCarver,  who  laid  out 
Burlington,  Iowa,  and  came  to  Oregon  in  1843. 
He  looked  for  the  site  of  the  future  city  of  Oregon, 
and  missed  Portland  by  only  ten  miles.  With  the 
tirst  rush  he  went  to  California  and  laid  out  Sac- 
ramento. Now  he  went  to  the  Sound.  "I  will 
find  the  site  of  the  terminus  of  the  future  North- 
ern Pacific  railroad,"  he  said.  Where  his  cabin 
stood  now  stands  Tacoma. 

Gold  cropped  out  in  the  mountain  borders  of 
the  Willamette  Valley.  Curious  little  "  eagle's- 
nests"  were  found  on  the  Satiam,  —  some  of  the 
most  beautiful  specimens  of  arborescent  gold  the 
world  has  ever  seen.  Buried  away  under  rocks 
and  trees,  in  the  crumbling,  rotten  quartz,  little 
cavities  as  large  as  a  man's  hat  were  found  filled 
with  sticks  and  straws  of  finest  gold.  The  wire- 
like skeins  crossed  and  criscrossed  in  every  di- 
rection, and  attached  to  the  edge  of  the  nest  as  if 
some  wondrous  bird  had  builded  there  her  golden 
home.  No  wonder  the  effect  was  surprising  and 
magnificent. 

And  yet,  who  knows  how  many  other  "nests" 
may  lie  undiscovered  still,  like  little  fairy  palaces, 
at  the  foot  of  those  grim  old  trees?  The  thick 
forest-growth  of  ages  has  been  a  great  deterrent 


162  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

of  effort.  Some  of  the  earliest  diggings  have  not 
even  wagon-roads  into  the  primeval  wild.  There 
is  no  doubt  that  under  the  forestry  of  the  Cascades 
many  a  well-filled  pocket,  many  a  treasure-vein  of 
gold,  lies  waiting  the  pick  of  the  future  miner. 
This  Pacific  range,  from  Cape  Horn  to  Point  Bar- 
row, hides  in  its  heart  the  coin  of  the  future.  Men, 
to-day,  dredging  the  sandy  bed  and  banks  of  the 
river  Snake  say  there  is  fine  flour  of  gold  enough 
in  those  drifts  and  bars  alone  to  pay  the  national 
debt  over  and  over  again. 

Projectors  of  enterprises  came  into  Oregon.  On 
Christmas  Day,  1850,  the  Lot  Whitcomb  was 
launched  at  Milwaukie,  —  the  first  steamer  of  all 
the  fleets  upon  these  inland  waters.  Gold,  found 
all  the  way  from  southern  Oregon  to  British  Co- 
lumbia, led  to  the  organization  of  the  Oregon 
Steam  Navigation  Company.  To  help  the  gold- 
hunters,  steamboats  began  to  run  up  the  Colum- 
bia, and  then  up  the  Snake  to  Lewiston.  From 
Lewiston,  pack-trains  carried  supplies  far  over  to 
the  scattered  miners  of  Montana. 


BLACKBOARD    STUDIES. 

Idaho.     Gem  of  the  mountains. 
Montana.     Spanish  for  "  mountainous  country." 
Yakima.     Indian,  eyakema,  black  bear. 
Santiam.     From  san-de-am,  medicine-man. 
arborescent  gold.     Branching  like  trees. 


JO    LANE.  AND   THE    INDIANS. 


ABLE  ROCK  is  a  flat-topped  moun- 
tain overhanging  Rogue  River,  in 
southern  Oregon.  From  this 
watch-tower,  sweeping  the  valley 
for  miles,  the  Indians  noted  in- 
coming immigrants  and  the 
movements  of  gold-seekers.  Thus, 
with  accurate  knowledge  of  their  strength  and 
movements,  the  Indians  could  swoop  down  with 
unerring  aim  and  annihilate  whole  encampments. 
They  became  expert  robbers,  bandits  of  as  wild 
exploits  as  any  ever  celebrated  in  song  or  story. 
Strangers  entering  the  lovely  valley  of  the  Rogue 
little  imagined  that  picturesque  peak  of  the  Table 
Rock  sheltered  the  deadliest  foe  of  settlement  and 
of  civilization. 

In  the  days  of  the  gold  rush,  large  companies 
passed  in  comparative  safety,  but  many  a  strag- 
gler, many  a  group  of  three  or  four,  went  out 
never  to  return. 

In  the  spring  of  1850,  Governor  Jo  Lane,  the 
"  Marion  of  the  Mexican  War,"  decided  to  go  down 


164  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

and  quiet  those  Indian  banditti.  With  an  escort 
of  fifteen  men,  a  pack-train  bound  for  the  mines, 
and  a  few  friendly  Klickitats, —  born  foes  of  the 
Rogue  Rivers,  — he  made  a  descent  on  their  coun- 
try. Camping  near  some  Indian  villages,  Gen- 
eral Lane  sent  word  to  the  principal  chief,  "I 
want  a  '  peace  talk.'     Come  unarmed." 

The  chief  and  seventy-five  followers  came  and 
sat  in  a  ring  on  the  grass  around  the  Hyas  Tyee 
of  the  whites.  Lane  very  flatteringly  and  with 
great  ado  brought  the  Indian  chief  into  the  cen- 
ter with  himself.  Just  behind  sat  his  Klickitat 
aides.  Before  the  conference  began,  seventy-five 
more  Indians  appeared,  fully  armed.  "  Put  dowr 
your  arms  and  be  seated,"  said  Lane  to  the  new 
comers.  They  sat  down.  General  Lane,  the  here 
of  many  a  battle,  made  a  great  peace  talk.  "  I 
hear  you  have  been  murdering  and  robbing  my 
people.  It  must  stop.  My  people  must  pass 
through  your  country  in  safety.  Our  laws  have 
been  extended  here.  Obey  them,  and  you  can 
live  in  peace.  The  Great  Father  at  Washington 
will  buy  your  lands  and  pay  you  for  them." 

He  paused  for  a  response.  The  Rogue  River 
chief  uttered  a  stentorian  note.  His  Indians  leaped 
to  their  feet  with  a  war-cry,  brandishing  their 
weapons.     At  a  flash  from  the  General's  eye  the 


JO    LANE    AND    THE    INDIANS.  165 

Klickitats  seized  the  chief.  Motioning  his  men 
not  to  shoot,  with  utter  fearlessness  Lane  walked 
into  the  midst  of  the  warriors,  knocking  up  their 
guns  with  his  revolver.  "Sit  down,"  he  sternly 
motioned.  The  astonished  chief,  with  the  Klicki- 
tat's knife  before  his  eye,  seconded  the  motion, 
and  the  savages  grounded  their  arms.  As  if 
nothing  had  happened,  Lane  went  on  talking. 
"Now,"  he  said,  "go  home.  Return  in  two  days 
in  a  friendly  manner  to  another  council.  Your 
chief  shall  be  my  guest." 

The  crestfallen  Indians  withdrew,  leaving  their 
chief  a  prisoner  with  General  Lane.  At  sunrise 
an  anxious  squaw  came  over  the  hills  to  find  her 
lord.  Jo  Lane  brought  her  in  and  treated  her 
like  a  lady.  For  two  days  Lane  talked  with  that 
savage  chief  and  won  his  friendship.  When  the 
warriors  came  a  treaty  was  easily  concluded. 

"  And  now  bring  the  goods  you  stole  from  my 
people,"  said  General  Lane.  The  Indians  bun- 
dled away  and  soon  brought  in  whatever  was  left. 
But  the  treasures  of  a  recent  robbery  were  gone 
beyond  retrieve.  Ignorant  of  their  value,  the 
savages  had  emptied  the  precious  sacks  of  gold- 
dust  into  the  river. 

"  What  is  the  name  of  this  great  chief?"  asked 
the  Indians  of  the  interpreter.  The  General  him- 
self answered,  "  Jo  Lane." 


166  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

"  Give  rue  your  name,"  said  the  Indian  chief. 
"  I  have  seen  no  man  like  you." 

"  I  will  give  you  half  my  name,"  said  Lane. 
"You  shall  be  called  Jo.  To  your  wife  I  give  the 
name  '  Sally,'  and  your  daughter  shall  be  called 
Mary." 

General  Lane  wrote  a  word  about  the  treaty  on 
slips  of  paper  and  signed  his  name.  Giving  them 
to  the  Indians,  he  said,  "  Whenever  any  white 
man  comes  into  your  country,  show  him  this. 
Take  care  of  my  people." 

As  long  as  those  precious  bits  of  paper  held 
together  the  Indians  preserved  them.  Whenever 
a  white  man  appeared  they  went  to  him,  holding 
out  the  paper,  saying  rapidly  the  magic  password, 
"Jo  Lane,  Jo  Lane,  Jo  Lane,"  —  the  only  English 
words  they  knew.  For  about  a  year  Chief  Jo 
tried  to  keep  the  peace  with  the  ever-increasing 
flood  of  white  men. 

After  a  while,  when  all  the  other  Indians  around 
him  were  fighting,  Chief  Jo  went  again  on  the 
warpath.  General  Lane,  no  longer  governor,  was 
building  a  home  on  his  claim  in  the  Umpqua 
Valley,  near  the  present  site  of  Roseburg,  when  he 
heard  the  news.  Hastily  gathering  a  small  force, 
he  hurried  to  the  scene  of  hostility.  For  a  hun- 
dred miles  up  and  down  the  California  trail  the 


JO    LANE    AND   THE    INDIANS.  167 

Indians  were  slaughtering  and  burning.  Houses 
were  destroyed  and  the  woods  were  on  fire,  and  a 
dense  smoke  hid  the  enemy's  track. 

As  soon  as  Lane  appeared,  he  was  put  in  com- 
mand. They  traced  the  Indians,  and  a  great 
battle  was  fought  at  a  creek  near  Table  Rock. 
Chief  Jo  had  been  proudly  defiant,  and  boasted, 
"  I  have  a  thousand  warriors.  I  can  darken  the 
sun  with  their  arrows."  But  when  he  saw  his 
warriors  falling,  and  their  women  and  children 
prisoners,  the  old  chief's  feathers  dropped.  He 
heard  that  Jo  Lane  had  come,  and  sent  for  a 
"peace  talk."  "Jo  Lane,  Jo  Lane,"  all  the  Indi- 
ans began  to  call,  —  "Jo  Lane,  Joe  Lane,"  —  from 
bush  and  hollow. 

The  General,  wounded  in  the  battle,  and  faint 
from  the  loss  of  blood,  ordered  a  suspension  of 
hostilities.  Not  wishing  them  to  know  that  he  was 
wounded,  he  threw  a  cloak  over  his  shoulders  to 
conceal  his  arm,  and  walked  into  the  Indian  camp. 
His  men  were  amazed,  and  censured  this  rash  ex- 
posure of  his  life.  Far  off,  as  soon  as  Chief  Jo 
caught  sight  of  Lane  approaching,  he  cried  his 
griefs  across  the  river:  "The  white  men  have 
come  on  horses  in  great  numbers.  They  are  tak- 
ing our  country.  We  are  afraid  to  lie  down  to 
sleep,  lest  they  come  upon  us.  We  are  weary  of 
war,  and  want  peace." 


JO    LANE    AND   THE    INDIANS.  169 

Lane  sat  down  by  his  namesake,  Chief  Jo.  "  Our 
hearts  are  sick,"  said  the  despondent  chief.  "  We 
will  meet  you  at  Table  Rock  in  seven  days,"  was 
the  final  conclusion,  "  and  give  up  our  arms." 
Lane  agreed  to  this,  and  took  with  him  the  son  of 
Chief  Jo  as  a  hostage. 

During  the  armistice,  reinforcements  were  ar- 
riving,—  among  them  a  howitzer  and  muskets  and 
ammunition, —  in  charge  of  young  Lieutenant 
Kautz  of  Fort  Vancouver.  Also,  a  guard  of  forty 
men,  led  b}T  Captain  Nesmith,  from  the  Willamette 
Valley.  General  Joel  Palmer,  Superintendent  of 
Indian  Affairs,  came,  and  Judge  Deady,  who  was 
on  his  way  to  Jacksonville  to  hold  court. 

The  Indians  heard  of  the  howitzer  long  before 
it  arrived.  " Hyas  rifle,"  they  said;  "it  takes  a 
hatful  of  powder,  and  will  shoot  down  a  tree." 
They  begged  that  the  great  gun  might  not  be  fired. 
The  reinforcements  were  wild  to  have  a  chance 
at  those  Indians  whose  camp-fires  nightly  shone 
from  Table  Rock,  but  General  Lane  held  them  to 
the  armistice. 

The  day  of  the  council  arrived.  In  the  language 
of  Judge  Deady,  an  eye-witness,  "  The  scene  of 
the  famous  '  peace  talk '  between  Joseph  Lane  and 
Indian  Joseph  — two  men  who  had  so  lately  met 
in  mortal  combat  —  was  worthy  of  the  pen  of  Sir 


170  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS, 

Walter  Scott  and  the  pencil  of  Salvator  Rosa.  It 
was  on  a  narrow  bench  of  a  long,  gently  sloping 
hill  lying  over  against  the  noted  bluff  called  Table 
Rock.  Lane  was  in  fatigue  dress,  the  arm  which 
was  wounded  at  Buena  Vista  in  a  sling,  from  a 
fresh  wound  received  at  Battle  Creek.  Indian 
Joseph,  tall,  grave,  and  self-possessed,  wore  a  long 
black  robe  over  his  ordinary  dress.  By  his  side 
sat  Mary,  his  favorite  child  and  faithful  companion, 
then  a  comparatively  handsome  young  woman, 
unstained  by  the  vices  of  civilization.  Around 
these  sat  on  the  grass  Captain  A.  J.  Smith,  who 
had  just  arrived  from  Port.  Orford  with  his  com- 
pany of  the  First  Dragoons;  Captain  Alvord,then 
engaged  in  the  construction  of  a  military  road 
through  the  Umpqua  Canon;  and  others.  A  short 
distance  above,  upon  the  hillside,  were  some  hun- 
dreds of  dusky  warriors  in  righting  gear,  reclining 
quietly  on  the  ground.  The  day  was  beautiful. 
To  the  east  of  us  rose  abruptly  Table  Rock,  and 
at  its  base  stood  Smith's  dragoons,  waiting  anx- 
iously, with  hand  on  horse,  the  issue  of  this  at- 
tempt to  make  peace  without  their  aid." 

Captain  Nesmith,  on  account  of  his  knowledge 
of  Chinook,  was  chosen  interpreter.  "  But  those 
Indians  are  rogues,"  interposed  Nesmith.  "  It  is 
not  safe  to  go  among  them  unarmed." 


JO    LANE    AND    THE    INDIANS.  171 

"  I  have  promised  to  go  into  their  camp  with- 
out arms,  and  I  shall  keep  my  word,"  said  Lane. 
Nevertheless,  one  man,  Captain  Miller,  did  keep  a 
pistol  concealed  beneath  his  coat. 

In  the  midst  of  the  council  a  young  Indian 
rushed  panting  in,  made  a  short  harangue,  and 
threw  himself  upon  the  ground,  exhausted.  A 
band  of  white  men,  led  by  one  lawless  Owens, 
had  that  morning  broken  the  armistice,  and  shot 
a  young  chief.  Every  Indian  eye  flashed;  they 
began  to  uncover  their  guns. 

In  the  face  of  that  band  of  fierce  and  hostile  sav- 
ages, every  white  man  thought  his  time  had  come, 
and  whispered  a  prayer  for  wife  and  children. 
Some  muttered  words  that  were  not  prayers. 
Captain  Smith  leaned  upon  his  saber  and  looked 
anxiously  down  upon  his  beautiful  line  of  dra- 
goons, sitting,  with  their  white  belts  and  bur- 
nished scabbards,  like  statues  upon  their  horses 
in  the  sun  below.  And  yet  no  word  could  reach 
them  of  that  imminent  peril  on  the  mountain  side. 

General  Lane  sat  with  compressed  lips  on  a  log. 
Another  and  another  Indian  spoke,  belaboring 
back  and  forth  their  anger.  As  if  stopping  the 
mouth  of  a  volcano,  General  Lane  stepped  out, 
calling  in  a  loud  tone  above  the  Indian  murmurs, 
"  Owens  is  a  bad  man.     He  is  not  one  of  my  sol- 


172  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

diers.  When  we  catch  him  he  shall  be  punished. 
You  shall  be  recompensed  in  blankets  and  cloth- 
ing for  the  loss  of  your  young  chief."  The  red 
men  caught  the  winning  words.  As  Lane  went 
on  talking  the  excitement  gradually  subsided  and 
the  conference  went  on. 

The  treaty  was  concluded,  the  Indians  ceding 
the  whole  of  Rogue  River  Valley  and  accepting  a 
reservation  at  Table  Rock.  They  were  to  give  up 
their  arms,  except  a  few  for  hunting;  to  have  an 
agent  over  them;  and  to  be  paid  sixty  thousand 
dollars  by  the  government,  to  be  expended  in 
blankets,  clothing,  agricultural  implements,  and 
houses  for  chiefs. 

When  all  was  over  the  white  men  wended  their 
way  down  the  rocks.  The  bugle  sounded,  and 
the  squadrons  wheeled  away.  As  General  Lane 
and  party  rode  across  the  valley  they  looked  up 
and  saw  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  gilding  the 
summit  of  Table  Rock. 

Nesmith  drew  a  long  breath.  "  General,  the 
next  time  you  want  to  go  unarmed  into  a  hostile 
camp,  you  must  hunt  up  somebody  besides  my- 
self to  act  as  your  interpreter." 

With  a  benignant  smile  General  Lane  responded, 
"God  bless  you,  Nesmith;  luck  is  better  than 
science."     Nevertheless,   twenty   years   later,   in 


JO    LANE    AND    THE    INDIANS.  173 

just  such  a  case,  General  Canby  lost  his  life  at 
the  Modoc  camp. 

Wonderful  to  relate,  in  all  the  fierce  and  fright- 
ful Indian  wars  that  followed,  the  treaty  Indians 
of  Table  Rock  forever  kept  the  peace.  When  all 
other  tribes  around  them  were  on  the  warpath, 
they  alone  kept  quiet  on  their  reservation. 


BLACKBOARD    STUDIES. 

Klickitats.  The  Yankees  of  the  Coast  Indians.  They  often 
traveled  as  far  east  as  Dakota,  shooting  buffalo  and  trading 
horses. 

Hyas  Tyee.     Chinook  for  "  great  chief." 

reservation.  An  allotment  of  land  set  apart  for  Indian  occu- 
pation. 

Chinook  jargon.  A  polyglot  of  Indian-French-English  and 
other  tongues,  that  grew  up  among  the  traders  on  the  coast. 
It  has  gradually  extended  from  Oregon  up  among  all  the 
tribes  to  the  Arctic  Ocean. 


KAMIAKIN. 


HE  white  man's  rush  for  gold  was 
overturning  all  Indian  tradition. 
The  territory  of  Washington  was 
set  apart  (1853),  and  its  ambitious 
first  governor,  Isaac  I.  Stevens, 
went  over  the  mountains,  survey- 
ing a  route  for  a  northern  Pacific 
railroad.  Then  with  Joel  Palmer  of  Oregon  he 
summoned  the  tribes  to  the  famous  Indian  council 
of  Walla  Walla. 

"We  wish  to  purchase  your  lands,"  said  Gover- 
nor Stevens,  "  and  settle  you  on  reservations.  You 
shall  have  mills,  and  plows,  and  food,  and  schools, 
and  blankets.  Houses 
shall  be  built  for  your 
chiefs."  Dimly  each  pro- 
phetic Indian  saw  the  end. 
They  must  retire  before 
the  coming  race.  They 
begged  delay,  —  "We  do 
not  understand." 

Then    General    Palmer 

174 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 

Survey  of  the  Northern 
Pacific. 

Council  of  Walla  Walla. 

Plea  of  Kamiakin. 

Indian  outbreak. 

Decisive  battles. 

Civilization. 


KAMIAKIN.  175  • 

explained  to  them  the  benefits,  the  wonders,  of 
civilization,  the  magic  of  the  railroad,  the  tele- 
graph. 

"What  have  I  to  be  talking  about?"  retorted 
Kamiakin,  chief  of  the  fourteen  allied  tribes  of  the 
Yakima  nation,  when  they  called  on  him  to  speak. 
But  in  the  night-time,  at  the  Indian  camp-fires 
of  Cayuse  and  Umatilla,  of  Spokane  and  Yakima, 
Walla  Walla  and  Nez  Perce,  "  Do  not  surrender 
your  lands,"  pleaded  Kamiakin.  "  These  pre- 
tended treaties  are  a  ruse  to  get  us  out  of  the 
way."  But  when,  in  spite  of  all  his  pleading,  the 
white  man  won  over  nearly  all  the  tribes,  the 
great  Kamiakin  leaped  to  his  feet  and  stamped 
the  ground  in  despair.  "  Sign  the  treaty  if  you 
want  to.  Sign,"  he  cried.  "Let  us  all  sign,  and 
get  what  we  can.  These  officers  of  the  Great  White 
Chief  are  lying  to  us.  If  they  pay,  it  is  well.  If 
they  pay  not,  get  powder,  get  lead,  get  provisions. 
Be  ready.  When  the  rivers  are  frozen,  when  the 
mountains  are  deep  with  snow,  strike.  The  sol- 
diers are  few.  The  Bostons  beyond  the  mountains 
are  far  away.     Strike  in  the  dead  of  winter." 

And  they  all  signed,  —  Kamiakin,  Pio-pio-mox- 
mox,  and  all  the  chiefs  of  the  great  Columbia 
tribes.  And  the  Indians  went  home,  five  thou- 
sand of  them,  from  the  council  of  Walla  Walla. 


176  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Governor  Stevens  went  on  up  among  the  Black- 
feet  to  make  a  treaty  with  them,  opening  the  way 
for  his  northern  Pacific  railroad. 

Three  months  from  the  signing  of  the  Walla 
Walla  treaty,  gold  mines  were  opened  in  the  Col- 
ville  country,  and  the  rush  began  through  the 
treaty  lands.    Settlers  began  to  stake  their  claims. 

"Go,  or  be  shot,"  said  Kamiakin.  "No  white 
man  can  settle  in  our  country  until  the  lands  are 
paid  for."  He  sent  his  runners  flying  from  Puget 
Sound  to  Klamath.  Red  signal-tires  glowered 
on  all  the  hilltops,  the  oriflamme  of  Kamiakin. 
Then  occurred  the  most  terrible  uprising  in  all 
the  history  of  Indian  conflict,  —  the  fateful  war  of 
1855.  Massacre  followed  massacre  in  rapid  succes- 
sion; immigrants  were  slaughtered  on  the  Snake; 
settlers  fell  in  conflagrations  on  the  Sound. 

October  9,  1855,  was  a  dark  and  memorable  day 
in  southern  Oregon.  On  that  day  Chief  John 
started  on  the  warpath.  Frenzied  by  the  rapid 
influx  of  white  population,  every  white  man  in 
his  path  was  shot  on  sight.  Farmers  with  their 
wagons  on  the  road  never  came  home  again.  For 
miles  the  land  was  left  in  ashes.  Riders  came 
dashing  into  Jacksonville  and  quickly  told  the 
tale  of  havoc.  Men  leaped  to  their  saddles,  fol- 
lowing the  track  of  desolation.     All  the  outlying 


KAMI  AKIN.  177 

settlers  hurried  to  Jacksonville;  farms  and  flocks 
and  fields  were  left.  Then  followed  the  battles  of 
Galice  Creek  and  Hungry  Hill,  the  devastation  of 
the  Umpqua  settlements  and  the  Gold  Beach. 
After  furious  battles  and  bloodshed,  old  Chief  John 
was  brought  to  bay.  "You  are  a  great  chief;  so 
am  I,"  said  John  to  Colonel  Buchanan.  "This  is 
my  country.  I  was  in  it  when  these  trees  were 
very  small,  —  not  higher  than  my  head.  My 
heart  is  sick  fighting  Bostons,  but  I  want  to  live 
in  my  country." 

On  the  Columbia,  General  Haller  was  sent  into 
the  Yakima  country  to  inquire  into  the  causes  of 
Kamiakin's  hostility.  Step  by  step,  Kamiakin, 
the  strategist,  wary,  unrelenting,  drew  Haller's 
handful  of  soldiers  into  the  Indian  country  and 
cut  them  to  pieces.  "  I  can  fight  them  five  years," 
said  the  confident  chief,  and  all  the  more  tribes 
rushed  to  his  standard. 

Governor  Curry  sent  the  Oregon  volunteers 
into  the  Walla  Walla  country.  Pio-pio-mox-mox 
met  them  with  a  flag  of  truce.  "  I  will  not  fight  the 
Bostons,"  said  the  dark-faced  chief,  but  already 
his  people  had  sacked  the  fort  of  Walla  Walla. 
He  held  his  flag  of  truce  while  his  people  fought 
on  the  hills.  Electrified,  he  heard  the  sound  of 
guns.     They  thought  he  was  trying  to  escape,  and 


KAMI  AKIN.  179 

then  in  a  rush,  a  scuffle,  Pio-pio-mox-mox  fell, 
shot  dead  beneath  his  flag  of  truce. 

Back  from  his  treaty  with  the  Blackfeet  came 
Governor  Stevens,  to'  find  the  country  in  an  up- 
roar. He  was  at  the  camp  of  the  Nez  Perces  when 
news  came  of  a  four-days'  battle  and  the  death  of 
Pio-pio-mox-mox.  For  a  moment  the  wild  war- 
cry  kindled  Nez  Perce  hearts,  but  the  winning 
Governor  Stevens  happily  enlisted  them  under 
the  flag  of  the  United  States.  He  reached  his 
capital,  Olympia,  to  find  the  country  depopulated 
and  the  people  living  in  blockhouses.  Kamiakin's 
emissaries  were  on  the  Sound.  The  British  Co- 
lumbia Indians  came  down  in  their  war-canoes 
and  laid  waste  the  country.  Seattle  itself  was 
besieged,  and  was  saved  only  by  the  appearance 
of  United  States  gunboats  in  the  harbor. 

Kamiakin  attacked  the  Cascades.  Men  were 
working  upon  a  wooden  railway  around  the  Cas- 
cades when  Indian  bullets  whistled  in  their  ears. 
Some  fled  to  a  storehouse  near,  some  to  a  block- 
house. For  two  days  and  nights  the  naked, 
painted  savages  on  the  cliffs  above  pelted  them 
with  shots,  rocks,  and  burning  pitchwood.  The 
third  morning  dawned,  when,  lo!  two  steamers  hove 
in  sight,  and  Phil  Sheridan  with  his  first  little 
command  of  forty  dragoons.  The  savages  were 
routed. 


180  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

The  war  seemed  over  when  Colonel  Steptoe  was 
sent  up  to  Colville  with  150  men  on  a  friendly 
mission  to  the  miners.  "  They  come,  the  Bos- 
tons, to  make  the  survey,"  was  the  watchword 
that  flashed  from  Spokane  to  Palouse  and  Cceur 
d'Alene.  "  Go  back!  "  was  the  red  man's  warning 
call.  "Ah,  ha!  we  have  them  now,"  laughed 
Kamiakin,  as  Steptoe's  retreat  grew  into  a  flight. 
But  Chief  Timothy,  one  of  Spalding's  old  pupils, 
led  Steptoe's  fugitives  through  an  unguarded  pass, 
and  ninety  miles  at  a  gallop,  without  rest,  to  the 
crossing  of  the  Snake,  out  of  the  trap  of  Kamiakin. 

"  No  favor  to  any  tribe  that  harbors  Kamiakin," 
was  the  watchword  of  Colonel  Wright,  who  now 
came  carrying  terror  into  the  Indian  country. 
( )n  the  first  day  of  September,  1858,  was  fought 
the  great  battle  of  Four  Lakes.  Wherever  danger 
was  thickest,  there  was  Kamiakin,  but  the  white 
man's  long-range  rifles  flashed,  and  the  Minie 
balls  whistled  in  the  wind.  Dust  whirled  in 
clouds  as  the  Indians  sped  in  one  wild  flight. 
Again,  on  the  fourth  day,  Kamiakin  rallied  his 
shattered  forces.  He  set  the  grass  on  fire,  but 
the  white  dragoons  leaped  through  and  fought, 
inch  by  inch,  for  fourteen  miles,  the  battle  of 
Spokane  Plains.  Kamiakin  fled  over  the  border 
into  British  Columbia,  to  return  no    more.     His 


KAMIAKIN.  181 

deluded  followers  came  in  and  sued  for  peace,  and 
laid  down  their  arms  in  submission. 

The  last  flash  of  Indian  valor  came  when  Chief 
Joseph  rose  in  1877  to  fight  for  his  ancestral  val- 
leys. But  he,  too,  learned  that  he  must  give  up 
the  vast  areas  over  which  he  was  wont  to  roam, 
and  come  under  the  laws  of  civilized  life. 


BLACKBOARD    STUDIES. 

Kamiakin  (ka-me-ah'kin). 

See  "  Life  of  Gov.  I.  I.  Stevens,"  by  his  son,  General  Hazard 
Stevens. 


WAR   HEROES. 


HEN  President  Taylor  was  ready 

to  appoint  a  successor  to  General 

Jo  Lane  as  governor  of  Oregon 

\A/      *D    territory,  he  offered  the  place  to 

Abraham  Lincoln. 

"  No,  sir-ee,"  was  the  reply  that 
came  back  over  the  telegraph  wire. 
Ten  years  later,  Abraham  Lincoln  was  President 
of  the  United  States. 

The  Civil  War  broke  out.  Oregon  had  become 
a  state  in  1859.  Lincoln  sent  a  requisition  for  "  a 
full  regiment  of  Oregon  cavalry  to  be  organized, 
and  report  to  Col.  E.  D.  Baker  on  the  Potomac." 

Col.  E.  D.  Baker  was  Oregon's  first  Republican 
Senator,  who,  together  with 
James  W.  Nesmith,  his  col- 
league,   had    gone    on    to 
Washington. 

Oregon  was  stirred  to  its 
center.  The  drum -beat 
was  heard  in  every  village. 
Young  men  leaped  at  the 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 

Lincoln  and  Oregon. 
The  Civil  War. 
Col.  E.  D.  Baker. 
Sheridan  at  Yamhill. 
Sheridan  at  Winchester. 
The  War  with  Spain. 


182 


WAR    HEROES. 


183 


country's  call.  In  a  short  time  the  regiment  was 
ready  and  waiting  for  word  to  join  its  colonel  on 
the  Potomac.  But  while  they  were  waiting  a 
message  flew  over  the  continent:  "  Colonel  E.  D. 
Baker  fell  at  Ball's  Bluff,  bravely  righting  for  his 
country." 

Just  before  his  death  in  October,  1861,  in  the 
uniform  of  a  colo- 
nel, fresh  from 
the  camp  of  his 
regiment,  Colo- 
nel Baker  thrilled 
the  Senate  of 
the  United  States 
with  a  speech  in 
support  of  the 
Union. 


In  his  "Twenty    i 
Years      in     Con- 
gress,"       Blaine 
says,  "  From    the 
far  -  off       Pacific  «>L-  e.  d.  baker. 

came     E  d  w  a  r  d 

Dickinson  Baker,  a  Senator  from  Oregon,  a  man 
of  extraordinary  gifts  of  eloquence;  lawyer,  sol- 
dier, frontiersman,  leader  of  popular  assemblies, 
tribune  of  the  people.     In    personal    appearance 


184  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

he  was  commanding,  in  manner  most  attractive, 
in  speech  irresistibly  charming.  Perhaps  in  the 
history  of  the  Senate,  no  man  ever  left  so  brilliant 
a  reputation  from  so  short  a  service." 

While  inspiring  his  men  to  loftiest  heroism  on 
that  fateful  field  of  Ball's  Bluff,  Oregon's  Senator- 
soldier  laid  down  his  life  forever. 

Immediately  all  the  regulars  in  garrison  on  the 
Coast  were  summoned  East.  Oregon's  cavalrymen, 
who  had  enlisted  for  the  Potomac,  were  now  de- 
tailed to  fill  the  vacant  posts  of  the  regulars  in 
Oregon,  Washington,  and  Idaho.  The  Indians 
had  heard  of  the  war  beyond  the  mountains,  and 
the  Northwest  could  not  be  left  unguarded. 

Colonel  Joseph  Hooker  left  his  Oregon  farm  to 
become  General  Jo  Hooker  of  the  Union  army. 
Grant  had  already  gone,  leaving  his  name  indeli- 
ble on  a  mountain  pass  where  he  camped  for  a 
night,  —  Grant's  Pass.  Sheridan,  who,  since  the 
battle  at  the  Cascades,  had  been  stationed  on  a 
reservation,  and  many  others,  were  soon  en  route 
to  Eastern  battle-fields. 

All  the  world  has  heard  of  Sheridan  at  Win- 
chester, but  few  know  anything  about  Sheridan  at 
Yamhill. 

After  the  battle  of  the  Cascades,  Sheridan,  with 
his  little  detachment  of  dragoons,  was  ordered  to 


WAR    HEROES.  185 

the  reservation  in  the  Coast  mountains,  including 
the  Grand  Ronde,  in  Polk  and  Yamhill  counties, 
and  the  Siletz,  north  of  Yaquina  Bay. 

Sheridan  arrived  there  in  April,  1856.  The 
Rogue  Rivers,  with  Old  Chief  John,  had  just  ar- 
rived. The  Table  Rocks  were  sent  there  under  a 
guard  of  one  hundred  soldiers.  So  excited  were 
the  settlers  through  whose  territory  these  Indians 
were  to  pass,  that  they  talked  of  an  armed  force  to 
resist  their  coming.  Soon  other  tribes  —  Coquilles, 
Klamaths,  Modocs,  and  Chinooks  —  some  thou- 
sands altogether  —  found  homes  on  the  shores  of 
the  Pacific. 

It  was  no  small  work  to  get  these  wild  Indians 
all  into  civilized  clothing.  John  F.  Miller,  the 
agent,  set  to  work  teaching  the  Indians  to  plow 
and  sow.  The  girls  were  taught  to  do  housework 
and  use  the  needle.  In  the  schoolhouse,  boys  and 
girls  were  taught  to  read  and  write. 

Lieutenant  Sheridan,  for  a  time  the  only  army 
officer  present,  was  busily  engaged  in  erecting 
Fort  Yamhill.  Three  pretty  white  houses  were 
built  for  the  officers,  among  the  green  oak  trees. 
The  Grand  Ronde  in  a  state  of  nature  was  a  lovely 
spot,  like  the  park  of  an  English  nobleman,  and 
here,  at  any  time,  Sheridan  might  have  been  seen 
with  his  dogs  and  his  gun,  roaming  all  over  the 


186  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

reservation.  Sheridan  was  a  great  hunter,  and 
often  went  fishing  in  the  Yamhill  River.  Genial, 
approachable,  he  was  always  ready  to  stop  and 
chat  with  the  employees,  and  pat  the  sunny  curls 
of  the  agent's  little  daughter,  Culla-culla. 

Very  soon,  Chief  John,  over  on  the  Siletz,  got 
up  a  rebellion,  and  Sheridan  and  his  troopers 
were  sent  to  quell  it.  Sheridan  found  that  on 
account  of  some  failure  of  the  commissariat,  the 
Indians  were  out  of  food,  and  in  danger  of  starva- 
tion. Blaming  the  agent  for  this,  they  had  be- 
sieged him  for  days  in  a  log  hut,  and  Sheridan 
arrived  just  in  time  for  rescue. 

Sheridan  had  driven  with  him  over  the  moun- 
tains a  few  head  of  beef-cattle,  and  ordered  them 
killed  at  a  little  distance  from  his  camp.  The 
Indians  rushed  up  like  wild  men  and  drew  their 
knives.  Immediately  Chief  John  leaped  to  Sheri- 
dan's side  and  bade  the  Indians  "Back,"  and  in 
his  rude  eloquence  held  that  hunger-crazed  crowd 
at  bay  until  Sheridan's  company  could  hasten  up 
from  camp. 

Sheridan  always  felt  grateful  to  Chief  John  for 
his  loyalty  on  that  occasion,  and  often  secretly 
aided  his  family  with  gifts  of  coffee  and  sugar. 

That  winter  was  very  rainy;  the  Indians  were 
homesick,  and  many  of  them  died.      "  It  is  not 


WAR    HEROES.  187 

your  wars,  but  your  peace,  that  kills  my  people," 
said  Chief  John  solemnly.  Soon  after,  a  plot  was 
discovered  among  the  Indians  to  run  away  from 
the  reservation  and  get  back  to  their  old  home  in 
southern  Oregon.  Chief  John  and  his  son,  the 
leaders,  were  arrested  and  put  on  a  steamer  to  be 
sent  to  California.  When  the  steamer  arrived  off 
Rogue  River,  old  Chief  John  and  his  son  nearly 
captured  the  vessel  in  their  effort  to  escape  and 
swim  to  the  shore  they  loved  so  well. 

In  July,  1856,  to  their  mutual  grief,  Sheridan's 
troopers  were  ordered  away.  They  had  made 
long  and  tiresome  marches  with  Sheridan,  fought 
Indians,  forded  swift  mountain  streams,  and  swum 
deep  rivers,  ferrying  their  baggage  on  rafts  and 
bundles  of  reeds,  "  and  in  all  and  everything  had 
done  the  best  they  could  for  the  service  and  their 
commander." 

"  They  little  thought,"  says  Sheridan,  in  his 
"Memoirs,"  "when  we  were  in  the  mountains  of 
California  and  Oregon, —  nor  did  I  myself  then 
dream, —  that  but  a  few  years  were  to  elapse  before 
it  would  be  my  lot  again  to  command  dragoons, 
this  time  in  numbers  so  vast  as  of  themselves  to 
compose  almost  an  army." 

The  greatest  work  that  Sheridan  was  called  to 
do  was  to  put  a  stop  to  some  of  the  Indians'  bar- 


188  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

barous  customs.  One  of  these  was  the  practice  of 
killing  the  doctor  when  any  one  died.  In  extrav- 
agant grief  they  would  burn  their  houses,  destroy 
their  clothing  and  furniture,  kill  their  horses,  and 
pile  their  rations  into  the  grave  of  the  dead.  Of 
course  there  could  be  no  progress  in  civilization 
so  long  as  such  barbarities  prevailed.  Sheridan 
could  speak  Chinook,  the  "court  language"  of  the 
tribes,  like  a  native,  and  took  the  case  in  hand. 

At  first  he  tried  to  argue  with  them,  and  explain 
the  uselessness  of  such  conduct.  They  only  shook 
their  heads.  "  You  are  a  white  man.  You  are 
not  like  us."  Finally,  one  day  an  old  Indian 
woman  doctor  was  killed  just  as  she  was  fleeing 
to  Sheridan's  house  for  protection.  Sixteen  In- 
dians were  after  her  and  sixteen  wounds  were  in 
her  body. 

Sheridan  knew  every  man  of  the  Rogue  River 
tribe.  He  went  to  their  village  and  called  a  coun- 
cil. No  one  was  with  him  but  the  sergeant  who 
held  his  horse.  He  commanded  them  to  give  up 
the  men  who  shot  the  woman.  The  Indians  re- 
fused. Sheridan  insisted.  Hot  words  followed, 
and  the  Indians  crowded  up.  Sheridan  put  his 
hand  to  his  hip  for  his  pistol  —  it  was  gone. 
They  had  stolen  it.  Modifying  his  demand  to 
gain   time,    Sheridan    moved    toward    his   horse. 


WAR    HEROES.  189 

Mounting,  he  sped  toward  the  Yamhill,  fast  as 
ever  he  rode  at  Winchester,  and  called  from  the 
farther  bank,  "  The  sixteen  men  who  killed  the 
woman  must  be  given  up,  and  my  six-shooter 
also."  Only  laughter  floated  across  the  Yamhill 
River. 

Sheridan  resolved  to  march  with  fifty  men  to 
their  village  the  next  morning  and  bring  them  to 
terms.  At  daylight,  Princess  Mary,  the  daughter 
of  Chief  Jo  of  Table  Rock,  came  to  Sheridan's 
house. 

"  They  are  armed  and  painted  for  war,"  said 
Mary.     "  I  cannot  persuade  them  to  obey." 

With  this  information,  just  before  daylight  the 
next  morning  Sheridan  surprised  them  in  the 
rear  and  captured  their  chief.  Thousands  of  In- 
dians rushed  out  on  the  hills  to  see  what  the 
boastful  Rogue  Rivers  would  do.  The  sixteen 
culprits  came  in  and  laid  down  their  arms  at 
the  feet  of  Sheridan's  men.  They  were  set  to 
work  with  ball  and  chain.  From  that  day  no 
more  doctors  were  killed  and  no  more  property 
destroyed. 

Fifteen  years  later,  when  Sheridan  came  back 
to  visit  his  old  post,  he  found  those  Indians,  he 
says,  "  transformed  into  industrious  and  substan- 
tial farmers,  with  neat  houses,  fine  cattle,  wagons, 


BEEVET    BRIGADIER-GENERAL    OWEN    SUMMERS. 


WAR    HEROES.  191 

and  horses,  carrying  their  grain,  eggs,  and  butter 
to  market,  and  bringing  home  flour,  coffee,  sugar, 
and  calico  in  return." 

From  the  day  that  Sheridan  heard  of  the  firing 
on  Fort  Sumter,  he  was  deeply  anxious  to  return 
to  the  States.  Greatly  exaggerated  reports  of  the 
first  battles  reached  Oregon,  creating  intensest 
excitement.  Mail  arrived  at  the  reservation  only 
once  a  week,  by  express  from  Portland.  On  the 
day  of  the  mail,  Sheridan  would  go  out  early  in 
the  morning  to  a  lofty  hill,  where  he  could  see  a 
long  distance  down  the  road  of  the  Yamhill  Val- 
ley, and  there  he  would  watch  and  watch  for  the 
messenger.  He  was  afraid  the  war  would  end  be- 
fore he  could  get  there.  Finally,  one  day  the  call 
came  for  him  to  go. 

Confidentially  he  whispered  to  a  friend,  "  I  am 
determined  to  win  a  captain's  commission,  or  die 
in  the  attempt." 

Little  did  he  or  any  one  else  know  that  Phil 
Sheridan  would  become  one  of  the  greatest  heroes 
of  that  or  any  other  war. 

Who  would  have  supposed  that  just  as  the  cur- 
tain was  falling  on  the  nineteenth  century,  Ore- 
gon would  send  an  expedition  along  the  path 
traced  by  Magellan?    that  Oregon  would  send  the 


CHAPLAIN   WILL  S.    GILBERT. 


WAR    HEROES.  193 

first  troops  from  the  United  States  to  a  foreign 
land,  and  that  the  Orient? 

May  1,  1898,  Dewey  sunk  the  Spanish  fleet  in 
Manila  Bay.  May  25th,  a  regiment  of  Oregon 
volunteers  weighed  anchor  for  the  Philippines. 
It  was  the  Oregon  boys  that  Honolulu  first  feted; 
the  Oregon  boys  that  came  to  the  Ladrones  and 
disembarked  to  effect  the  surrender  of  the  islands; 
the  Oregon  bo}^s  that  anchored  off  Cavite  sixty 
days  after  Dewey's  famous  battle.  With  the 
sunken  ships  of  Admiral  Montojo's  fleet  lying  in 
the  harbor  before  them,  they  watched  the  walled 
city;  in  forty-four  days  the  Oregon  boys  were  the 
first  Americans  to  enter  the  gates  of  Manila;  to 
them  was  detailed  the  honor  of  receiving  the  sur- 
render of  the  Spanish  army,  and  that  night  they 
were  quartered  in  the  Palace. 

In  the  following  Filipino  war  the  Oregon  boys 
acquitted  themselves  with  credit  in  twenty-two 
engagements;  in  the  vanguard  of  all  our  brave 
Americans  they  captured  Baliuag,  San  Idlefonso, 
Maasin,  San  Miguel,  and  San  Isidro,  the  insurgent 
capital.  Oregon  boys  made  the  gallant  charge  at 
Malabon  and  swept  the  trenches  supposed  to  be 
impregnable. 

"  Where  are  your  regulars?  "  General  Wheaton 
was  asked  at  Malabon.  "  There  are  my  regulars," 


194  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

he  answered,  pointing  to  the  Oregon  volunteers. 
No  wonder  the  General  called  them  his  "  Oregon 
greyhounds," — nothing  could  hold  them  back. 
They  have  made  the  name  of  the  American  vol- 
unteer respected  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

Where  all  were  heroes,  who  shall  be  named? 
Never  will  Oregon  forget  General  Owen  Summers, 
whose  "  Move  Forward  "  was  the  watchword 
of  the  army.  Never  will  she  forget  Thornton, 
commanding  Lawton's  scouts,  who  crossed  the 
burning  bridge  at  Tarbon  to  capture  San  Isidro. 
Never  will  she  forget  Povey,  who,  when  Manila 
was  taken,  though  the  bay  was  lashed  with  storm 
and  his  launch  sank  under  him,  landed  forty 
thousand  rations  safely  in  Manila  for  distribution 
to  the  exhausted  volunteers.  Never  will  she  for- 
get the  warrior-chaplain,  Will  S.  Gilbert,  who 
nursed  her  boys  in  camp  and  swamp  and  battle, 
who,  with  the  bullets  flying  around  him  at  Malabon, 
went  down  into  an  old  well  to  bring  them  water,  — 
the  only  chaplain  in  the  whole  division  that  went 
on  the  firing-line  and  followed  the  thirty-four 
days'  inarch  of  continual  battle  from  San  Isidro 
to  Calumpit.  These  are  heroes,  moral  heroes, 
physical  heroes,  who  have  woven  a  wreath  of 
immortal  glory  around  "  The  Second  Oregon." 


WAR    HEROES.  195 

BLACKBOARD     STUDIES. 

Yamhill.     Corruption  of  Che-um-il,  a  ford. 

Yaquina.     Name  of  a  female  Indian  chief. 

Culla-culla.     Chinook  for  "  bird." 

Baliuag    (bade-ob'ag)  ;    San    Idlefonso    (san   e-dle-fon'so) ; 

Maasin  (ma-ah-sen')  ;    San  Miguel    (san  ine-gaT) ;    San 

Isidro  (san  e-se'dro). 


THE    COMING    OF    THE    RAILROAD. 


■*$&  V£©'  «w  *w 
"^     T^     '"?■' 

v^  ^  -»^  v^ 
**•?  «w  'H4r  '•sKr 


HE  first  railroad  boom  struck  the 
United  States  in  1830.  Asa  Whit- 
ney, away  over  in  China,  heard 
of  it.  He  collected  statistics  of 
our  trade  with  China,  and  came 
home  to  present  to  Congress  the 
plan  for  a  railroad  to  the  Pacific. 
He  was  met  with  ridicule. 

"  A  railroad  across  two  thousand  five  hundred 
miles  of  prairie,  of  desert,  and  of  mountains?" 
exclaimed  Senator  Dayton  of  New  Jersey.  "  The 
extravagance  of  the  suggestion  seems  to  me  to 
outrun  everything  which  we  know  of  modern 
scheming." 

Asa  Whitney  made  the 
promotion  of  a  Pacific 
railroad  from  the  Great 
Lakes  to  the  ocean  the 
business  of  his  life,  trav- 
eling, lecturing,  writing, 
year  in  and  year  out,  until 
at  last  a  committee  of  Con- 


BEFEREXCE  TOPICS. 

Whitney's  scheme. 

Early  surveys. 

The  Union  Pacific. 

The  Northern  Pacific. 

The  O.  R.  <fc  X. 

The  Southern  Pacific 


THE    COMING    OF    THE    RAILROAD.       .         197 

gress  did  report  in  favor  of  a  survey.  The  Mex- 
ican War  intervened;  California  was  annexed; 
gold  discovered.  "Not  a  Northern  route  now," 
said  the  Southern  men;  "it  must  go  from  Vicks- 
burg."  Asa  Whitney  had  spent  his  fortune,  and 
betook  himself  to  driving  a  milk- wagon. 

In  1853,  Congress  authorized  Jefferson  Davis, 
Secretary  of  War,  to  find  the  best  route  to  the 
Pacific.  He  sent  out  five  surveys  on  five  parallels, 
—  the  32d,  35th,  38th,  42d,  and  48th.  All  returned 
favorable  reports;  all  found  paths  to  the  Pacific. 
All  five  of  those  lines  are  built  and  running  now. 

Where  Omaha  stands  to-day,  the  first  engineer 
crossed  on  a  raft,  and  slept  that  night  in  the  tee- 
pee of  an  Omaha  Indian.  When  all  was  done, 
Jefferson  Davis  said  the  road  must  be  built  on  the 
32d  parallel.  "  By  no  means  north  of  Vicksburg." 
Of  course  the  North  would  not  consent  to  this;  so 
nothing  was  done. 

The  Rebellion  came  and  stopped  surveys.  Cali- 
fornia, in  the  days  of  gold,  had  leaped  to  statehood 
in  1850.  When  the  peal  of  cannon  could  almost 
be  heard  in  Washington,  Abraham  Lincoln  put 
his  finger  on  the  map  and  said,  "The  Coast  is  un- 
defended. The  road  has  become  a  military  neces- 
sity. Build  from  Omaha."  Congress  gave  a  sub- 
sidy—  over  fifty  millions  of  dollars  —  and  a  grant 


198  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

of  land.  Soldiers  who  had  fought  in  the  war  be- 
came soldiers  of  the  Union  Pacific,  some  building, 
some  guarding,  this  greater  than  any  road  of  the 
Romans  across  the  mighty  empire  of  the  West. 

The  Calif ornians  greeted  the  work  with  joy. 
They,  too,  began  to  build  from  Sacramento  east, 
—  the  Central  Pacific.  Five  years  it  took  to  build 
across  the  plains  and  Rocky  Mountains.  There 
were  dangers,  wild  times,  and  dreadful  nights. 
The  tombs  of  the  trail-makers  lie  side  by  side 
with  those  of  the  immigrants.  Indian  battles  were 
fought,  fierce  and  bloody,  and  many  a  pathfinder, 
many  a  builder,  sleeps  where  he  fell,  —  the  forgot- 
ten, silent  hero  of  civilization's  onward  march. 

Few  had  faith  when  the  army  of  construction 
left  the  little  village  of  Omaha.  When  trains 
actually  reached  the  Rocky  Mountains,  newspapers 
sent  their  correspondents.  The  world  watched 
while  daring  engineers  chiseled  shelves  on  the 
granite  sides  of  canons,  winding  round  and  up 
and  over  the  Rockies.  The  world  watched  the 
race  down  the  western  slope.  The  bold  Califor- 
nians,  after  their  kingly  climb  of  the  Sierras, 
came  rushing  east  with  outstretched  arms  to  meet 
their  compeers  in  the  Utah  desert. 

At  last  the  wires  of  all  the  principal  cities  were 
connected  with   that  spot  in  the   desert.     There 


THE    COMING    OF    THE    RAILROAD. 


199 


stood  the  engines  of  East  and  West.  The  last 
spike  was  driven;  the  wire  clicked;  Chicago,  New 
York,  Philadelphia,  rung  their  bells  and  fired 
their  guns.  Villages,  cities,  states,  grew,  carved 
out  of  the  Great  American  Desert.  Armies  of  oc- 
cupation came  in  a  day.  Farms,  gardens,  or- 
chards, bloomed.  Mines  opened.  Branch  lines 
grew,  reached  out  their  iron  fingers  over  here 
into  Oregon,  down  to  meet  the  Santa  Fe  and 
up  to  meet  the  Yellowstone.  Flying  back  along 
that  track,  ten  states  sent 
their  products  to  take  prizes 
at  the  Omaha  exposition. 

Ben  Holladay  heard  Ore- 
gon call  for  railroads  in 
her  green  valleys.  Already 
he  had  a  fleet  of  steamers 
trading  in  the  Pacific ;  with 
them  he  would  link  the  new 
Northwest.  Already  two 
Oregon  centrals  had  broken 
sod  at  Portland  and  were 
battling  their  "  Wars  of  the 
Roses  "  on  the  east  and  the 
west  sides  of  the  Willam- 
ette. Both  sides  were  look- 
ing for  money  abroad  when 


Ben  Holladay  "s  name  links 
back  with  those  of  Kit  Carson 
and  Buffalo  Bill.  When  only 
26  years  old,  Holladay  brought 
fifty  wagon-loads  of  goods  to 
Salt  Lake  Valley,  and  laid  the 
foundation  of  his  fortune. 
When  the  projectors  of  the 
overland  stage  route  thought  it 
would  not  pay,  he  took  it  and 
put  it  on  its  feet.  A  million  a 
year  the  government  paid  Ben 
Holladay  for  carrying  the  mail 
to  California.  Back  and  forth 
from  St.  Jo  to  Sacramento  sped 
his  world-famous  pony  express. 
Ben  Holladay  sent  his  stage- 
coaches into  the  remotest  min- 
ing camps.  But  now  the  rail- 
road was  coming.  The  day  the 
last  spike  was  driven,  Ben  Hol- 
laday's  stage  line  would  close 
forever.  He  sold  his  express 
business  to  Wells,  Fargo,  and 
Company,  and  turned  to  Ore- 
gon. 


200  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Ben  Holladay  came  up  from  California  with  re- 
puted millions  in  his  gripsack. 

Bold,  far-seeing,  imperious  as  Caesar,  a  natural 
tyrant  and  a  great  leader,  Ben  Holladay  captured 
the  sole  command  in  1870.  His  East  Side  Oregon 
Central  was  merged  into  the  Oregon  and  California 
with  a  capital  of  twenty  millions.  Then  began  a 
rapid  growth.  Over  the  new-laid  irons  the  first 
train  went  to  Salem  in  October,  1870.  In  Decem- 
ber, Albany  was  reached.  Holladay  got  control  of 
the  Willamette  boats  and  started  a  paper.  He  is- 
sued edicts  like  a  czar  and  lived  like  a  monarch. 
Men  began  to  call  him  a  "  railroad  king,"  a  "  grind- 
ing monopolist,"  and  a  "  railroad  dictator."  He 
carried  the  West  Side  road  on  up  among  the  Yam- 
hill farms.  Wheat  brought  in  at  once  began  to 
load  the  grain-fleets  sailing  out  from  Portland 
for  the  distant  shores  of  Europe.  Holladay  sold 
bonds  in  Germany,  and  with  ten  millions  more 
in  hand  built  the  road  on  down  to  Roseburg  — 
and  stopped. 

Scarcely  had  Holladay  gained  control  of  the 
Oregon  roads  in  1870,  when  Jay  Cooke,  the  great 
war  financier,  took  up  the  old  Northern  Pacific 
survey.  He  switched  the  main  line  down  to  the 
Columbia  and  began  building  at  both  ends.  He 
rushed    the    eastern   end   across    Minnesota  and 


THE    COMING    OF    THE    RAILROAD. 


201 


Dakota  to  a  little  settlement  on  the  banks  of  the 
Missouri,  called  Bismarck  —  and  stopped.  The 
western  end,  from  the  Columbia,  branched  over 
toward  the  Sound,  and  fell,  dead-broke,  near  a 
saw-mill  and  a  few  houses  called  Tacoma.  The 
Northern  Pacific  had  swallowed  up  more  than 
thirty  millions.     This  was  in  1873. 

Men  said,  "  It  is  that  Northern  Pacific  railroad, 
from  nowhere  into  no-man's  land,  that  has  caused 
the  panic.  It  has  caused  Jay  Cooke's  downfall, 
and  all  the  rest  grew  out  of  that."  But  wiser  ones 
knew  that  in  our  ambition  and  over-speculation 
after  the  war,  we  had  lived 
too  fast,  and  run  too  fast, 
as  a  people,  and  must  stop 
to  take  breath  again. 

But  Wall  Street  kept  its 
sleepless  eye  fixed  fast  on 
Oregon.  Another  and  a 
younger  than  Holladay 
came  up  the  Columbia.  His 
name  was  Henry  Villard. 

With  the  eye  of  a  prophet 
Henry  Villard  looked  on 
Oregon.  He  saw  the  Co- 
lumbia breaking  through 
the  Cascades  and  ramifying 


Henry  Villard,  born  in 
Germany,  the  son  of  a  Bavarian 
judge,  came  to  America  at  the 
age  of  18  and  became  a  journal- 
ist. He  wrote  up  the  gold-fields 
of  Colorado.  He  was  one  of  the 
daring  correspondents  of  the 
war.  In  1874  he  went  back  to 
visit  the  Fatherland.  Those 
German  bondholders  who  had 
invested  so  liberally  in  Holla- 
day's  railroad  knew  Villard  and 
trusted  him.  "  You  go  over 
there  and  see  what  is  the  mat- 
ter," they  said.  Taking  with 
him  a  skilled  engineer,  Richard 
Koehler,  Villard  came  straight 
to  Oregon.  When  he  returned 
his  report,  they  made  him  pres- 
ident of  the  Oregon  and  Cali- 
fornia road. 


202  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    REAPERS. 

far  up  into  the  Rockies.  He  saw  its  Willamette 
branch  sweeping  down  toward  California.  He| 
said,  "  This  must  forever  be  the  seat  of  commerce." 
He  set  a  force  of  men  building  the  railroad  on  from 
Roseburg  south  to  California.  Out  of  the  Oregon 
Steam  Navigation  Company  he  organized  the 
O.  R.  &  N.,  and  sent  his  engineers  along  the  Co- 
imbia,  blasting  a  road  to  radiate  like  a  fan  into, 
the  wheat-fields  of  eastern  Oregon,  Washington, 
and  Idaho,  and  swing  a  long  arm  out  to  meet  the 
Union  Pacific. 

Villard  planned  to  make  his  0.  R.  &  N.  the 
western  terminus  of  the  Northern  Pacific.  But 
the  Northern  Pacific  was  roused  from  her  long 
slumber,  and  was  building  again.  She  might  get 
away  from  him  and  find  another  outlet  to  the  sea. 
Villard  started  straight  for  the  money  center  of  the 
Western  World,  —  New  York  City.  There  he  said 
to  the  bankers  and  financiers  of  Wall  Street,  "  Give 
me  eight  millions,  and  ask  no  questions."  They 
gave  him  eight  millions.  Then  he  told  them  what  itl 
was  for,  and  they  gave  him  twelve  millions  more. 
With  that  he  bought  great  blocks  of  the  Northern 
Pacific,  and  he  who  had  been  refused  a  seat  as  di- 
rector now  came  in  as  president.  With  mighty, 
energy  Villard  set  to  completing  the  Northern' 
Pacific,  building  both  ends  at  once. 


THE    COMING    OF   THE    RAILROAD.  203 

In  September,  1883,  sixty  miles  west  of  Helena, 
the  old  war  chief  of  the  Crows  handed  Villard  the 
last  spike.  "  This  is  the  end  of  it  all,"  said  the 
old  chief  sadly,  as  he  handed  over  forever  the 
key  to  his  country.  Villard  took  the  spike  of  gold 
and  drove  it  home.  At  that  instant  fireworks  and 
illuminations  and  booming  cannon  flashed  from 
Superior  to  the  sea.  The  dream  of  Jefferson,  of 
Benton,  and  of  Asa  Whitney  had  come  true,  the 
trail  of  Lewis  and  Clark  had  "  crystallized  into  a 
track  of  steel,"  and,  from  an  isolated  corner  by  a 
distant  ocean,  Oregon  was  linked  with  all  the 
world. 


BLACKBOARD    STUDIES. 

E.  V.  Smalley's  "  History  of  the  Northern  Pat-inc.1' 
Cy  Warman's  "  Building  of  the  Railroad." 


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VOL.  Ill 


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